


A Different Kind Of Rescue

by livvylane



Series: A Different Kind of Family [2]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Aunt May is dead, Dad Steve Rogers, Deadpool's insanity, Deaf Clint, Gen, Grief, Hurt Peter Parker, Kidnapping, Mourning, Murder, Peter is an Avenger, Puppies, Torture, Violence typically associated with Deadpool
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2017-11-10
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:35:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7405717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livvylane/pseuds/livvylane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“They’re getting braver. They’re going after superheroes, and SHIELD agents, too. They got the upper hand on Deathlok. He got away and was able to inform us that HYDRA is searching for the Winter Soldier. They’re trying to recapture him.”<br/><br/>“Well, they won’t get him,” Steve said firmly, clenching the folder tightly. His blue eyes shot up to Coulson, “We’ll make sure that they don’t get him.”</p><p>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~</p><p>It's been two weeks since his Aunt's death and Peter has been grieving with the support of his team. Life just doesn't seem to want to let him deal with things without the added drama that comes with being an Avenger. When he's ambushed while on patrol, he finds himself in HYDRA's hands and being tortured for information on the Winter Soldier's location. It's up to his team to find him, and they've called in some extra help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rooftop

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.  
> WARNING: This story contains the torture of a teenager.

Peter loved the rooftops.

Well, it wasn’t really the rooftops that he loved. He liked the isolation of it. He liked how he could sit up there and observe the city, above the hustle and bustle of the citizens rushing around. Despite the fact that at any moment, his spidey sense could go off, alerting him to a crime taking place, he found it peaceful and relaxing.

Peace wasn’t something he got much of lately.

It had been two weeks since his aunt’s death. He hadn’t gotten past it. He wasn’t sure that he ever would. Of course, he wasn’t about to let his team know that. They had gotten ridiculously protective already, each trying to show their support in their own way. He was pretty sure that Sam had been baking him food whenever he had spare time, and he was always waking up with some ridiculous stuffed animal on his bed. No one mentioned her death, but they all tried to help.

It was touching, but it was a bit overwhelming, and annoying that he felt like they were walking on eggshells around him. He was not about to worry them more and get them worse. No, he could pretend that everything was fine and dandy. He could walk around and smile and train and pretend like it wasn’t eating him up inside. Then, at night, he’d break down in his room, where no one could see.

He could do it. They didn’t have to know how much he was struggling.

On the rooftop, Peter didn’t have to worry about that. He didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing him and could let his guard down. Of course, his mask would always hide his facial expressions, but the Avengers (especially Steve and Bucky) had a weird sixth sense for knowing when he was upset).

He was alone up there, with not even JARVIS to bug him.

His spidey sense suddenly went off. He stilled, eyes raking over the crowd of people until his spidey sense helped him hone in on a child, kicking and screaming (though the sound was muffled by a hand) as a man pulled her down an alley.

He sighed, eyes narrowing at the scene before jumping off the roof. The wind whipped past him as he fell, cutting through the night air. He shot out his web, catching on a lamp post, and swung through the air.

He reached the roof above the scene and didn’t waste a single moment before hopping down in front of the would-be kidnapper.

“Come on, man. Pick on someone your own size,” he huffed. He really despised people who messed with children.

The little girl’s eyes widened and, as the man was distracted by Peter’s sudden appearance, bit the man’s hand hard. He yelped, pulling his hand away and giving the child enough time to run.

Peter, not wanting the man to grab the girl again, quickly shot his web and webbed him to the wall. He let out an annoyed groan as his head hit the side of the brick the wall.

“Oh, did I hurt you?” Peter taunted, “Should have thought about me when you decide to hurt a kid.”

Admittedly, Peter had gotten a little more violent lately. It wasn’t anything that bad. He still wouldn’t kill anyone, and he knew to hold back his strength from causing too many serious injuries. Still, the criminals that he webbed up were apprehended by police with a lot more injuries than they used to, especially if they were drunk.

“Let me go!” the man hissed, pulling uselessly at the webs that kept him secured to the building behind him.

“Hmm, let me think about that?” Peter said, tapping his chin as if in thought, “Yeah, I don’t think so.”

He webbed up the man’s mouth, preventing him from saying anything else. He was just about to land a solid punch on the man’s nose to release some of the rage that was sizzling under his skin ever since seeing the man trying to hurt that little girl when a small voice sounded behind him.

“Spider-Man?”

He paused, large white eyes on his mask turning to the source. The child, no older than eight years old, was staring at him fearfully.

A sigh escaped his lips and he pulled away from the man. Once he was sure that he would not be able to get out of the webs, he turned to the girl, “Are you okay?”

She nodded, wrapping her arms around herself. There was a pause, and she sniffed, “I want to go home.”

“I know you do,” Peter nodded, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder, “Where are your guardians? I can take you to them.”

She sniffed again, “I-I don’t know. We were going to my Grandparents,” her voice shook as she spoke, “I-I saw a cat across the street.”

Peter sighed and nodded, understanding that she had wandered away from her family. He’d had a few of those in the past where he had to help a child find their parents, so it wasn’t anything new to him. Lots of children wandered away and children were defenseless against criminals.

“Alright, I have an idea,” Peter told the child with a smile, though she wasn’t able to see it through his mask. He bent down so that he was eye level with the girl, “But first, are you scared of heights?”

* * *

 

By the time Peter arrived back at the tower, it was well past two in the morning. JARVIS opened his window as he swung in and he swooped gracefully into his bedroom, landing on his feet.

“Welcome back, Peter,” JARVIS’ voice spoke throughout the room, “I detect that you are injured. Would you like me to contact Mr. Banner?”

“No, I’m fine,” Peter spoke quickly, shaking his head even though he was pretty sure JARVIS wouldn’t register it. He slipped off his mask, revealing a large bruise covering his jaw. He had been a little restless after helping the little girl find her parents, too caught up in thoughts about his own family, and hadn’t dodged out of the way of a punch in time.

He wasn’t injured badly, only a few bruises, so there was no need to have Bruce running into his room and having a heart attack again. The last time that JARVIS had alerted the man without even asking Peter had been bad enough. He’d made sure that the AI understood that he had to ask Peter beforehand.

“If you’re sure,” the AI spoke clearly through the room.

Peter nodded simply as he started to strip out of his suit and into some sweats and a t-shirt. A yawn escaped his lips and he stumbled over to his bathroom, fully ready to brush his teeth and collapse into bed. It had been a long night, as it always was. Peter’s new routine was to work himself as hard as he could on his patrols so that he could fall asleep quickly.

“Peter,” JARVIS spoke up right as his hand brushed against the doorknob. Peter paused, listening, “I believe that you should be informed that there is currently a disturbance occurring in Mr. Barnes’ room.”

He blanched, sleep immediately clearing from his brains as he shot to attention. A disturbance? Surely they would have contacted him if something had happened. Was Bucky having another flashback? JARVIS normally only alerted Steve to those. Had something happened and he turned into the Winter Soldier? Bruce and Tony were worried that that would happen.

Before his brain could continue coming up with all the wild scenarios in his mind, his feet found their way to the door. He flung the door open, web shooters on his rest and ready to fight if need be.

Bucky’s room was near Peter’s own. Most of the Avengers had the same floor, but that wasn’t the case for Peter, Bucky, and Steve. Bucky had, as per Steve’s request, been moved onto Steve’s floor when he had moved in. Peter had been given a room on Steve’s floor as well when he had arrived and while Tony had offered him to have his own floor after he’d settled in, he had found that he actually liked his room and he was sure that he’d get lonely on his own. Steve had been completely fine with it, enjoying the company.

Besides, the man was now his legal guardian. After his Aunt’s funeral, Steve had brought the subject up to him. He’d agreed, not wanting to go into Foster Care (it raised way too many complications with the whole ‘he’s secretly Spider-man’ deal). The man was, and had been before-hands, more like a father than he could even remember his own being.

Of course, he didn’t remember much about his father, except that the man was always working. There were those nightmares that had started to become frequent lately, but Peter was sure that they were just that – nightmares.

The moment Peter had his door opened, he could hear the distinct sound of a dog howling. Someone was shouting (It was definitely Tony) and he quickly realized that Bucky’s door was open. Steve’s strong build was visible in the dim light of the hallway inside of Bucky’s room.

“Steve?” he asked, eyebrows raised as he walked up, now certain that nothing was wrong if the man’s relaxed, if not slightly amused, posture said anything.

The blonde man glanced out the door, spotting Peter. His blue eyes twinkled, though they paused momentarily on the bruise covering his jaw. Noticing, Peter’s hand unconsciously moved up to it.

“Should be healed up by tomorrow morning,” he assured the man quickly. Wanting to get the attention off of the bruise, he quickly asked, “What’s going on?”

Steve shot him a look that clearly said that they would discuss the bruise later (though Peter wasn’t sure why, as he’d dealt with much worse), and then gestured for him to come inside of the room.

“Lucy’s having her puppies,” he told him, voice tinging on excitement.

The moment that Peter entered, he was greeted with the sight of Bucky’s large bedroom with each and every one of the Avengers packed inside. Bruce and Sam were on their knees in front of Lucy’s bed, hiding her from view. Bucky sat nearby, looking incredibly nervous for his dog. Natasha and Clint were sprawled out on Bucky’s large, king-sized bed, playing a game of cards and completely ignoring the situation around them, Lucky lounging beside Clint. Tony was pacing at the far end of the room, away from Lucy. He seemed rather distressed.

“I did not sign up for this!” he was ranting to himself, “I agreed to Lucky. I even agreed to the flee-bitten mutt that Barnes brought into this tower. Puppies were not on the contract. Oh, the stains are never going to come out!”

A small grin appeared on Peter’s face as Tony paced, pulling at his hair. Tony had made it very obvious that he did not like Lucky and Lucy and definitely did not like the fact that Lucy had gotten pregnant.

“I’m telling you, Barnes,” Tony suddenly stopped pacing, turning to the man, “When this is over, you are getting her fixed. This will not happen again.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. In fact, the only sign that he even heard Tony speaking was the hand gesture he gave the man.

“Bucky!” Steve chastised, “There is a fifteen-year-old present.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “Not like I haven’t seen it before, gramps. As Spider-Man, I’ve gotten more than a few of those directed in my direction.”

Steve just huffed softly and Tony gave a chortle of laughter, shooting Peter a thumbs up. Tony had been trying to get Peter to call him ‘Gramps’ for a while, after all.

It was times like this where Peter found that he could deal with the pain of losing Aunt May easier. The distractions helped, giving him something else to focus on than his grief. That was what his patrol was lately. He could distract himself with drunks and criminals and lost children and he didn’t even think about his loss.

It wasn’t long after that that Sam turned around, grinning widely, “Seven! She had seven puppies!”

The only thing that could be heard after that was Tony’s anguished cries of, “Seven? SEVEN! Nine dogs!? Steve, I can’t deal with nine dogs!”

* * *

 

“Peter, keep your arms up! No! You have to be more careful!”

Steve sighed as he watched Peter and Natasha spar with each other. The teenager had gotten clumsier in his fighting lately and a lot more reckless. Natasha had noticed that he wasn’t blocking as much and taking a lot more hits as he tried to go straight to the offensive. She’d brought it up to Steve, a bit of concern seeping through her tone.

Steve knew that if Natasha was concerned, he needed to pay attention to it.

Peter growled in annoyance, throwing a punch and leaving his side completely unguarded as Natasha effortlessly dodged it and kicked him. He stumbled back but was back on his feet in an instant, running towards her.

He was being reckless. No wonder he was coming home with bruises more often lately.

Of course, Steve worried about the teenager. He’d been worrying since May Parker’s death. He’d locked himself in his room the entire day afterwards and he’d broken down at the funeral, but he spent the rest of the time with a smile that just didn’t quite reach his eyes and an assurance that he was fine whenever anyone asked. The team had all done their part in trying to discreetly help. Steve was pretty sure that Sam’s baking therapy and Natasha’s impromptu training sessions weren’t working that well, though.

JARVIS no longer alerted him to any nightmares coming from Peter’s room, but Steve knew that they occurred. Undoubtedly, he’d somehow hacked the system. It wouldn’t be the first time that had happened. Tony had done it before when Steve kept showing up in his room to try and calm him down.

He snapped out of his thoughts, noting that Natasha had a rather frustrated Peter pinned on the ground. Clint gave a dramatic count-off before patting the ground and Natasha let him go.

The boy huffed as he pulled himself to his feet, dusting off his t shirt. He wasn’t in his suit, as Steve decided that they all needed to learn how to fight in casual clothes in case an attack occurred while they were out in public or didn’t have time to change.

“Peter,” he called, catching the teen’s attention, “Can I talk to you?”

The rest of the team (minus Thor, who was visiting Jane), understanding that he wanted to talk to Peter alone, headed off to the other side of the gym to continue their training. Peter walked over, arms crossed sullenly over his chest.

“I know, I know,” the boy said grumpily, “I suck.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Steve frowned in disapproval, “But you’re being reckless. You’re taking too many hits and they’re weakening you in the fight. You’re practically abandoning defense. Why?”

Peter stared at him for a long moment, as if not quite comprehending what he was saying. He blinked and shrugged, “I heal.”

“Not right away,” he countered, “In the middle of a battle, any wound can slow you down. You can’t keep letting Natasha hit you.”

The tenseness in Peter’s shoulders was the only thing that alerted Steve that the teenager was getting angry, “Look, I’m sorry that I’m not good enough. She’s better than me!”

“She’s more experienced than you,” Steve corrected calmly, eyebrows raised, “But you _were_ blocking her better before-“

He cut himself off, unable to finish.

“Before what?” Peter’s eyes flashed, as if demanding that Steve continue his sentence.

He paused. None of them had mentioned May after the funeral. It was an unspoken agreement between the team that they didn’t speak about things like that. They never mentioned battles where innocent lives were lost or Natasha’s past or how Tony became Iron Man or how the Hulk had killed people when Bruce lost control. It was better to not mention them.

Aunt May had become one of those things. They all knew about it and tried to help Peter and make him feel better but they didn’t actually mention her death. It had become a taboo topic around them in the past two weeks.

He hesitated, “Peter, you-“

“No, stop it!” Peter snapped, fists clenched together. His cheeks were red as he glared at Steve, “Stop avoiding the subject. Stop acting like it didn’t happen. It did and she’s gone and we all know it so say it! I was blocking better before Aunt May died. I know! I’m just a little distracted.”

His voice cracked at the end and he sucked in a breath, shaking. His eyes were glassy and Steve stepped forward to try and calm the boy down before he suddenly turned on his heel and bolted from the room.

Steve was about to chase after him when someone grabbed his arm. He turned and saw Bruce standing there, a worried look etched on his face.

“Give him some time alone and then go after him,” Bruce explained quietly, “He needs to calm down by himself first.”

* * *

 

When Steve went to talk to Peter, he found him curled up in his bed, completely oblivious to the world around him. He sighed and slowly shut the door back, deciding to let the boy sleep. He was suspecting that he wasn’t getting much lately.

So, he made his way to the main floor, where he knew the team would be.

Clint wasn’t there when he arrived, most likely headed out to the store again like he had been doing every night recently, but the rest of the team was seated around the table (though Sam was cooking), chatting amiably. Bucky looked sullen, having been dragged from his room and away from the puppies, but he glanced up as Steve walked up.

“How’s the kid?” he asked. His question caused the rest of the team to look up as well.

Steve never would have thought that all of them, even seemingly stone-hearted Natasha, would care so much for a teenager.

“He was asleep when I went to check on him,” he explained as he took a seat beside Bucky.

Sam gave a sigh from where he was seasoning the food, “Or he was pretending to sleep so you wouldn’t talk to him,” Steve sent him a quizzical look and the man continued, “I’m a counselor, remember? Or, I was. I might have helped PTSD sufferers from the military but I can tell that Peter doesn’t want us to think he’s weak, so he’s trying to act like nothing’s bothering him. He isn’t going to want to talk about his little outburst, but he needs to,” he pointed the wooden spoon at Steve, “You need to talk to him.”

“I know that I do,” Steve said with a sigh, “I just-“

“Sorry to interrupt,” JARVIS spoke, “Agent Coulson is on his way up. He will be arriving in approximately 121 seconds.”

Everyone glanced at each other, surprised. They hadn’t expected Coulson to show up, and there wasn’t a mission alert.

It wasn’t long before the elevator opened and the man entered, dressed in a suit and looking a bit grim.

“Agent?” Tony asked, not even looking up at him as he fiddled with his tablet, “What brings you to this fine establishment?”

“I’m afraid this isn’t a personal visit and I can’t stay long,” Coulson responded, swiftly making his way over to the table. He did a quick head count, “Where’s Barton, Thor, and Parker?”

Natasha answered, eyeing him suspiciously, “Clint’s off on a private matter. Thor’s with Jane and Peter’s asleep.”

Coulson raised his eyebrows at the answer as to Clint’s location but didn’t further question it. Instead, he sat a briefcase on the table and opened it. He pulled out a folder and handed it to Steve.

“SHIELD is investigating some of HYRDA’s activities,” he got right into it, “After we managed to get SHIELD back up and running without the infiltration, we’ve been focusing a lot on them. Do you remember the mission we sent you guys on to raid one of their bases?”

“The one where we almost had a fried spider on our hands?” Tony asked, attempting to snatch the folder away from Steve as he flicked through it.

“That’s the one,” Coulson said with a nod, “It’s come to our attention that there are many other bases performing similar human experimentation. We believe that they are attempting to recreate the Winter Soldier.”

Beside him, Bucky stiffened. Steve glanced over at his friend and saw him staring intently at the table, not moving a muscle.

If Coulson noticed, he didn’t show it. Steve was pretty sure that the highly trained agent had, though, “They’re getting braver. They’re going after superheroes, and SHIELD agents, too. They got the upper hand on Deathlok. He got away and was able to inform us that HYDRA is searching for the Winter Soldier. They’re trying to recapture him.”

“Well, they won’t get him,” Steve said firmly, clenching the folder tightly. His blue eyes shot up to Coulson, “We’ll make sure that they don’t get him.”

“I don’t doubt that. Just make sure that you are on high alert for any suspicious activity.”

The entire team nodded. They all understood that the threat of Bucky being back under HYDRA’s control was very real and very dangerous. At the moment, they were all still uncertain of what his HYDRA brainwashing included, and whether or not he could one day suddenly revert back to the Winter Soldier. It was a possibility that always had them on their toes around the man.

Coulson turned to leave before he paused. He pulled a small, sleek black object out of the briefcase and handed it to Steve.

“Give this to Peter. Tell him it’s a present from me.”

And with that, he made his way to the elevator and disappeared behind the metal doors. The team stayed silent before Bruce spoke up.

“Did Coulson just give you a pen to give to Peter?”

Steve glanced down at the object and found that Bruce was right. He was holding what looked to be a normal, household pen. He held it in his hands, carefully observing it. Why would Coulson want Peter to have a pen?

Across the table, Tony snorted, “Dying must have left some brain damage.”


	2. A Good Day, A Bad Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter spends some time with the team, and has to call for back up on patrol.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Marvel.
> 
> Warning: This chapter contains some violence.

Peter ended up sleeping through the entire night, something that made him groan when he woke up. He hadn’t gone on patrol the night before. Who knew how many people he could of saved and didn’t because his stupid brain decided to play catch up on sleep?

His clock read 7:13 when he awoke and he found himself staring blankly at it until it read 7:45. With a sigh, he became aware that he should probably get up. Usually, breakfast was served at 7:30, meaning he was already fifteen minutes late. He was surprised that the team let him sleep in. Usually, Steve would be knocking on the door if he was even a minute late.

Usually meant before Aunt May’s death.

He really wished they would treat him the same. Sure, he was still very much grieving and going through a rough patch. He could acknowledge that. Still, it infuriated him how they were treating him as if he was made of glass. He was a superhero and he just knew that the reason they treated him like this was because he was fifteen.

That infuriated him.

He let out another groan, turning onto his back and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A soft ‘thud’ alerted him that something had fallen off the bed.

Had he fallen asleep doing homework or something? No, he was sure he hadn’t. Summer break was almost on him, which meant that finals were as well, but he just didn’t have the energy to really care about it.

After a moment, curiosity got the better of him. He peeked over the bed to see what had fallen and found a stuffed spider on the ground.

“Really? Again?” he sighed at the sight. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and snatched it off the floor before tossing it under the bed, with the other stuffed animals that he had accumulated.

Someone on the team, he wasn’t sure who, had been leaving them in his room since his aunt’s death. He never mentioned it to anyone, because while part of him was annoyed at the childish gifts, another part was actually a bit touched. He wasn’t sure what he would say if he confronted the team about it. Would he ask them to stop, or thank them?

In the end, he had just decided not to mention it at all.

There was a soft knock on the door, sounding almost hesitant, before Bruce’s voice spoke through, “Peter? Are you awake?”

He let out a small sigh and walked up to the door, swinging it open. He was still dressed in the sweats and t shirt that he had slept in the night before, and he had a bad case of bed head, but he couldn’t find it in himself to freshen up a bit, “Yeah. I’m up.”

As it turned out, it really didn’t matter that Peter wasn’t properly dressed for the day, because neither was Bruce. He was wearing baggy pajama pants and a large, purple shirt that was half way tucked in. His feet were bare and his eyes were sleepy. Apparently, Peter wasn’t the only one to sleep in.

“Tony took Pepper out for the day,” Bruce said, “Natasha and Clint got sent on a mission, and Steve, Sam, and Bucky headed out to the gym. Something about needing to get Bucky out of the tower.”

That was good, Peter reasoned. Bucky was a bit of a recluse. It was partly (mainly) Tony and Bruce’s fault, as they were worried that the man would get triggered into the Winter Soldier out in public and hurt innocent civilians.

“So, it’s just us?” Peter asked before hiding a yawn behind his hand. It was rare for the tower to be so empty.

Bruce gave a nod, “Yeah. Sam made some pancakes. You can go get some if you want.”

His stomach growled at the mention of food. He’d skipped dinner the night before since he’d fallen asleep. Skipping meals in the Avengers was frowned upon, especially for the ones with an extremely high metabolism. It was a miracle that Steve, or even Bucky, hadn’t stormed into the room and dragged him downstairs by his ears.

“I could eat,” he responded simply, before following the man to the main floor.

* * *

After he’d wolfed down some food, Bruce mentioned that he was heading down to the lab and Peter decided to join him. Peter wasn’t as close with Bruce as he was with Tony. It wasn’t that Peter disliked the man (actually, Bruce Banner had always been an idol of his), it was just that Bruce was quieter and more withdrawn and it was harder to strike up a communication with something non-science related with the man than it was with Tony.

Still, Peter enjoyed spending time with Bruce. The lab was one of the only places where that was possible, and it was a good thing that Peter loved science.

“So, what are you working on?” he asked, walking over to where the man was leaning over a microscope at something.

Bruce glanced up at him briefly before looking back down, “I’m studying some of Deadpool’s blood.”

“Deadpool?” Peter asked. The name sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t think of who he or she was.

Bruce nodded, “He’s a Mercenary, often known as ‘Merc with a Mouth’ because he talks a lot. From what we’ve heard, he’ll do anything for money. He’ll kill anyone who gets in his way. That makes him a threat.”

Okay, well that answered one question bouncing around in his mind, “Why are you looking at his blood? How did you even get his blood?”

This time, when Bruce glanced up at him, he didn’t look back down through the microscope, “He’s got a healing factor as good as, if not better, than Wolverine’s. He can’t die.”

Peter knew who Wolverine was. He had never personally met the guy, but Tony had mentioned him a few times. Apparently, the man, who Tony called Logan, had worked with them a few times.

“He can’t die?” Peter asked in surprise, “Like, from anything? What if he got his head cut off?”

“Still won’t die. It’s happened before, according to the records SHIELD gave me. He just reattached it.”

Peter grimaced, nose wrinkling up in disgust at the mental image that ran through his mind. No, he was very sure that he never wanted to see that.

“So, the blood? How’d you get it?”

Bruce jotted something down on a notepad and then tapped the pen against his chin, “SHIELD gave it to me. Deadpool got shot when he was completing a… kill. SHIELD has been trying to catch the guy for ages. They got a sample of his blood off the floor and asked me if I can look into it, try and figure out how he got his powers.”

“What other powers does he have?” Peter was curious. He knew that Bruce was often tasked with jobs like this, to look into someone’s DNA and find out how they ticked, but he’d never actually seen him doing it.

The man gave a shrug, “I’m not sure. The only thing that’s certain is his Healing Factor. There’s rumors that he can teleport, but those haven’t been proven yet. All anyone really knows is that he’s insane.”

“Insane?”

“Yes.”

Bruce didn’t clarify. Peter decided not to push it. Instead, he asked, “Mind if I take a look?”

“Be my guest.”

* * *

 

When Bruce and Peter made their way back to the main floor, they found Sam, Bucky, and Steve surrounding the television, watching an episode of F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Lucky was laying across Bucky’s lap. Peter almost asked where Lucy was, before remembering that she was most likely with her puppies.

The first words out of Steve’s mouth when he saw them was, “Did you eat?”

Peter sighed as he took a seat beside Sam on the couch, pushing the man’s feet out of the way, “Yeah. You can ask Bruce.”

“Bruce?”

Wow, he really hadn’t meant it.

“Yes, Steve. He ate.”

The man gave a nod, satisfied. There was a brief pause where they all sat there in silence, Bucky sitting rather stiffly and looking lost in thought, and then Steve fished something out of his pockets, “Oh, I almost forgot. Coulson came by yesterday. He wanted me to give this to you.”

He handed Peter a small, sleek, black object that he instantly recognized as… “A pen?”

“I’m not sure why, but Coulson probably has his reasons,” Steve told him, “You should probably keep it on you for a while.”

Peter nodded, agreeing. He hadn’t known the man long (in fact, he’d only seen him a few times) but he’d heard enough stories to know that he knew what he was doing. Whatever the pen was for, even if it was just so Peter could write something down, he wasn’t going to question it.

It was a good thing that the new set suit that Tony had made him now had pockets.

“Hey, Bucky,” he asked the man suddenly. Bucky turned to him, “How are the puppies?”

“Good,” the man responded gruffly, though Peter saw a noticeable change in his body language at the mention of the puppies. The stiffness bled away slightly, replaced by what almost seemed to be a happy expression in his eyes.

Peter rarely ever saw Bucky looking happy. He supposed that living in fear that you might one day wake up and become a killing machine and then killing all your friends did that to a person.

“Can I see them?” Peter asked, trying to hide the excitement in his voice. Wow, he was sounding like a little kid. Still, puppies were puppies. Everyone liked puppies.

Bucky paused for a moment, before giving a nod. He stood up from his spot on the couch, “Sure.”

And so the two of them headed to Bucky’s room, leaving Steve, Sam, and Bruce. The walk was quiet, as it often was with Bucky. From the snippets of stories that Peter had heard from Steve, the man hadn’t always been this way. He supposed that trauma did that to a person.

Bucky led him to Lucy’s bed. It was right at the foot of Bucky’s own bed, and she was curled up with seven sleeping puppies asleep next to her. The man sat down on the floor, crossing his legs comfortably. Lucy looked up as he did that and he gently scratched behind her ears.

Peter copied Bucky’s position on the ground and observed the scene quietly. It was obvious that Bucky cared deeply for the animals. His body was relaxed for the first time that Peter had ever seen him.

“Have you named them yet?” he asked, propping his elbow on his knee and holding his chin in his hand.

Bucky shook his head, “No, they’re too young. I want to see what their personality is like first before I decide on a name. Right now, they can’t even open their eyes.”

Peter realized that that was true. He’d never had a dog before, and had never been around newborn puppies. He was surprised by how small and wrinkly they looked. Their fur was a mixture of black, brown, and white splotches and he was surprised to see one of them looking quite a big smaller than the rest. It was the runt of the litter.

“I was worried about him for a while,” Bucky motioned to the smallest dog, “But JARVIS said that his vitals seem to be fine.”

He nodded in understanding. He didn’t dare reach out and touch one of them. They were way too young and small and fragile. Instead, he sat there and watched as they began to wake up, squirming and whining as they searched for their mother.

Peter smiled lightly as he watched them. When he glanced over, he saw that Bucky was too.

* * *

 

A few days later, Natasha and Clint showed back up from their mission. Peter knew that they couldn’t tell him about anything they did with SHIELD, so he didn’t ask about it, but he could tell that it had been a brutal mission. Clint had come back with a sprained wrist, and Natasha had sported various bruises. It was rare for them to get injured, but not unheard of.

Peter was surprised when he walked downstairs one Saturday morning and saw Natasha standing there, dressed in casual jeans and a hoodie, a large bruise covering her right cheek that she didn’t even bother covering up, and said, “You’re late.”

He stared at her for a moment, confused, “Late for what?”

“Training.”

“We don’t train until after lunch,” he countered, confused since it was only nine. Mornings on Saturdays were used for homework and studying, though he had honestly not done anything that day, “And Steve’s at the gym.”

She shook her head, “We aren’t training with the group today. I’m taking you out to do some balance exercises.”

“Balance exercises,” he repeated, confused.

She simply nodded, “Come on. Happy is waiting for us outside.”

Completely baffled, he followed her towards the elevator, knowing better than to argue with Natasha. She always got her way.

Besides, he was curious as to what she had planned, anyway. He had, surprisingly, gotten a lot closer to the woman lately. Their relationship still mostly revolved around training, since he worked with her the most out of everyone, but it was much more comfortable and less… formal. She didn’t just feel like his trainer anymore.

“Okay, so where exactly are we going?” he asked her as he climbed in the car beside her. She just smirked at him, not answering.

Ten minutes later, they pulled a Skating Rink.

He stared at the building for a long time, mind trying to wrap around the fact that Natasha was taking him skating.

“Come on, I don’t have all day,” Natasha huffed, grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the building, “Clint and I come here a lot. It helps us unwind and is good for balance.”

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing as he followed behind the woman, “You and Clint go _skating_?”

She shot him a glare and he quickly shut his mouth. Right. It would not be a good idea to tease Black Widow. He would probably wake up tied to a pole.

She reached the front desk, handed the man some money, and asked for two pairs of skates. Peter was surprised when she asked for his shoe size, as he hadn’t told her it, but then reasoned that she was a super spy.

“Alright, put them on,” she paused, glancing at him, “You do know how to skate, right?”

“Of course,” he huffed, slightly offended as he put the skates on. Though, he did have to admit, he hadn’t skated since he was twelve. Things were just always too busy.

Once the two of them sported the ugly, tan colored skates, Natasha ushered him onto the rink. He nearly ran straight into a little girl but his spidey sense warned him just in time to veer to the left.

He was Spider-Man. Balance was his middle name. It only took him a short moment for his brain to remember the times at the skating rink from three years prior and he shot off after Natasha, who was flying around the rink as if she owned it.

It was… nice. The music was loud and a bit obnoxious, and there were several times when little kids nearly ran straight into him (he thanked his spidey sense for helping him dodge), but it was rather relaxing. He could see why Clint and Natasha would unwind there. When he skated laps around the rink, he forgot about everything going on in his life. He still preferred swinging around the city, but this was definitely fun.

Of course, it was also nice to race Natasha around the rink. Out of everyone, she was probably the one that he spent the least free time with. It was comforting to hear her laugh whenever she sped past him.

For the first time since the incident, he just focused on having fun.

* * *

 

They spent the entire day at the rink and didn’t get back to the tower until after dinner. They had eaten out for both lunch and dinner, and Peter found it both odd and relaxing spending the day with Natasha. She seemed much more relaxed the whole day than he had ever seen her.

When they arrived back at the tower, however, Natasha escaped to the gym to train with Clint, giving Peter the impression that the woman really hadn’t been training with Peter the entire day. A part of him liked that. Spending time with team outside of training was always fun and he rarely ever spent time with Natasha unless it was something like a Movie Night.

Now that he thought about it, a lot of the team had been doing that lately. Sam had enlisted his help in cooking quite a few times, Tony was dragging him down to the lab more and more often, and Steve had even tried to help him with his homework (something that he really didn’t need help in, but humored the man anyway).

A small smile on his face, Peter briefly stopped by the Main Floor where he found Sam and Steve sitting in the living room in some kind of deep discussion. They fell silent the moment he entered.

“Hey,” he greeted, raising his eyebrows in surprise at the serious looks on their faces, “What are you talking about?”

“Nothing. SHIELD stuff. It isn’t anything you need to worry about,” Sam brushed it off with a shrug. He stood up and stretched lightly, “I think I’ll head back to my floor for the night. No skipping training tomorrow.”

Peter grinned lightly, “Wasn’t really my choice.”

Sam just laughed lightly and walked past him, ruffling his hair on the way to the elevator.

Once he was gone, Steve turned to him, “Did you have fun?”

“Yeah,” Peter responded with a nod, “Surprisingly, it was a lot of fun. Never really found skating to be so enjoyable, but it was.”

The super-soldier nodded, “You have your homework done?”

“Most of it. I’ll get it done before class tomorrow,” Peter promised.

It was weird. Never would he have imagined promising Captain America that he would do his homework. It was even weirder how normal it felt.

“Okay,” Steve said with another nod, “Make sure you take that pen from Coulson with you. I’m not sure why it’s important, but it obviously is if Coulson wants you to have it.”

Peter raised his eyebrows. He’d inspected the pen thoroughly and couldn’t find anything remarkable about it. It seemed like just a normal pen. A part of him was beginning to agree with Tony’s theory about the guy just being a bit insane. Briefly, he debated just lying and leaving it in his room, but his spidey sense buzzed just at the thought.

Odd.

“Alright, I will,” he nodded.

“And don’t stay out too late. You have school tomorrow,” Steve said, arms crossed, “You may be able to handle more than most, but I don’t want to get a call from your teacher saying that you fell asleep in class.”

“Okay,” Peter laughed lightly. He couldn’t help it. He was in a good mood and having Captain America acting so fatherly was just a bit comical in his eyes. It was also a bit annoying, and more than a bit touching, “I’ll try and be back by midnight.”

And with that, Peter gave the man a wave and headed to the elevator, completely unaware of what was to come.

* * *

 

He really should have known that good things wouldn’t last.

He was swinging around on his webs, simply enjoying the night. It had been a slow night crime-wise. He’d passed time with smaller things, such as helping a lost child find his parents and finding a lost dog and returning it to its owners. He’d had to stop a guy from robbing a store, but that was the worst that had gone on.

He was almost ready to just head back home and get to bed early when he heard a scream. A low buzzing in his mind had him swinging towards it.

It was a woman. She was on her knees in the middle of an alley, tears streaming down her face and hands held above her head. A man stood above her, pointing a gun at her head.

“Really?” Peter asked, eyebrows raised as he swung in and landed directly in front of them, “Holding a woman up? Where anyone can see? You criminals just get dumber and dumber.”

He shot a web at the gun, yanking it out of his grasp and then webbing the weapon high on the wall.

The man threw a sloppy punch at him that he dodged effortlessly. He socked him in the jaw just hard enough to cause him to stumble backwards into the wall, then shot his web, sticking him to the surface.

“Dumber and easier to catch,” he responded with a sigh, scratching his forehead.

The man yelled at him through the webbing but he just gave him a smile, though it was invisible through the mask, “Don’t worry. You’ll have a nice time in jail. I’m sure everyone will want to hear the story of how you were caught by the one and only Spiderman! You’ll probably get a lot of friends. I’m sure there’s quite a few others in there who will share your hate for me. Ooh, I wonder if they have a Spiderman Hate Club. That’d be pretty neat and-“

He was cut off as his Spidey Sense roared to life. He ducked out of the way just in time as a dart shot past his ear.

“What the-“

He didn’t have time to finish before another dart nearly hit his leg. Suddenly, there were dozens of little darts flying through the air. He spun, contorting himself to avoid all of them. Once he avoided one, another narrowly sunk into his skin.

He caught sight of the woman, cowering in the corner, looking terrified. His gaze flew upwards and he spotted several figures standing on the roofs, holding what looked like rifles and shooting at him as if trained assassins.

“Seriously?” he yelled out. He jumped onto the wall, sticking there and attempting to scale it, only to be forced to jump back down when a dart narrowly missed his bicep.

He shot a web out, snagging one of the guns, but didn’t even have time to dispose of it before being forced to jump five feet in the air to avoid another dart.

There was too many of them. He got a hold of another gun. Then another. Each time he got one, it felt like they just gained two more.

He needed help.

Suddenly, a memory hit him full force. It felt like from forever ago, when in reality it wasn’t even a few months.

Steve’s voice echoed in his mind, _“This is a com. I’d like for you to wear it while you’re out. You don’t have to say anything unless something goes wrong.”_

He had never had to use the little black object before, but he’d worn it nonetheless.

His hand flew up to the object in his ear and switched it on.

“Cap?” he said quickly, dodging another dart. He shot his web to the gun and flung it down the alley. It hit the ground and skidded over a few feet away from the woman, “Cap? Iron Man? Got a bit of a situation.”

There was some static, and then Steve’s voice sounded, “On our way.”

Relief flooded through him. There might be way too many for him, but he was sure that the team could get him out of this. Who even were these people?

He shot another web. It attached itself to a gun. Before he could pull it out of the man’s hands, his Spidey Sense erupted.

He didn’t have time to dodge before a dart lodged itself in his calf. A gasp escaped his lips and he stumbled, the poison taking effect immediately.

That wasn’t right. He should be able to handle just one dart, shouldn’t he? He could handle more than the average man.

Obviously, this wasn’t an average dart.

He fell to his knees, feeling weak and sluggish. His head glanced to where the dart had come from. It had been much closer than the others and after getting used to the time it took for a dart to travel from the roof to him, he’d been unprepared to have one so close.

The woman that he had saved only moments before now stood there, holding the gun up and keeping it trained on him. A wide smirk now spread over her face as she slowly walked to the man webbed to the wall and began to attempt to pull the webbing off.

“No,” he breathed.

“Spiderman,” Steve’s urgent voice echoed in his ear, though it seemed fainter than it should, “Spiderman, do you read? Spiderman?”

As he fell forward, the last thing he saw was the woman walk over to him. As she leaned forward, her jacket rode up and gave him a view of the HYDRA symbol etched into her shirt.

“Spiderman, we’re almost there. Just hold on a… little… longer…”

The world faded away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, guys. I'm super sorry that this chapter took so long. Life just kind of got in the way of things... and so did my procrastination. I hope this chapter made up for it.
> 
> Now, originally, the ending scene wasn't going to be until the end of the next chapter. I was supposed to have some fluffy stuff going on, such as Peter baking with Sam and such, but I felt like I needed to get the action started.
> 
> Now, I will warn you that I am not sure when the next chapter will be up. I've just entered my Senior Year of High School and I'm taking three AP classes, participating in the Debate Team, Model UN, Spanish Club, and Creative Writing Club, AND I have to do the Senior Project (which is really complicated and annoying) while preparing to take the SAT and looking into colleges and stuff. So, I kind of have a full plate. I'll do my best to update as fast as I can, however.
> 
> ALSO! I think I should find a Beta reader... so if you're interested, shoot me a message.
> 
> So, I'd love to hear any theories you guys might have. What does the pen do? Who's leaving stuffed animals in Peter's room? Why does HYDRA want Peter? Leave it in a comment!
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Do Your Worst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers try to find Peter, and Peter wakes up in a strange place.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: This chapter contains torture of a minor.

The alleyway was quiet. The only sounds that could be heard was those of pedestrians walking home. It was late, though the streets were lit up by streetlights. The alley, however, was dark. Anything inside of it was hidden by the darkness from those on the street. It was one of those in which people scurried past, not wanting to even look down it. It was ominous, and promised danger.

The quiet was broken up by the sound of engines. A blur of red, gold, and blue appeared in the alley and came to a sudden stop. A man dressed entirely in armor stood flying in the air for a moment, holding onto a man dressed in blue and carrying a large shield. They fell to their feet as a man with wings came swooping into the alleyway, carrying another man who was in sweats and a t shirt.

Tony held up his hand and a light appeared from it, allowing them to see.

“Where is he?” asked Steve, as it became apparent that the alley was empty save for them.

There was a long silence, “His GPS says he’s here,” Tony said lowly, sounding confused, “Let me scan for him.”

There was a soft rumbling as a black car pulled into the alley. Natasha and Clint hopped out of it, looking tense.

“I can’t find his vital signs,” Tony said. His faceplate slid up. He was frowning, “But his GPS says he’s right here.”

“He has a GPS?” asked Sam. He was watching as Natasha walked down the alley, as if in search for something.

Tony gave a slight noise of indignation, “Of course he does! I put one in his suit so I could find him in case something like this happened! The kid never calls us, even if he should. If he called us, he must have gotten into some bad trouble.”

He sounded worried, which was something that Sam didn’t hear from the man often, so he decided not to ask if Peter knew about the tracking device or not.

“Well, there was obviously a fight,” Natasha said as she bent over and picked up a dart with a gloved hand. She frowned at it and inspected it closely, “Peter doesn’t carry these around. Someone was trying to sedate him.”

“It would take something powerful to sedate Peter,” Bruce pointed out. His voice was stiff. There was an anger underlying it, and it made everyone just a bit nervous.

Steve nodded in agreement, “And they had to have gotten him out of here quickly… it’s only been a few minutes since Peter called.”

“His GPS,” Tony was muttered to himself, sounding confused. It was rare that the man was confused.

“Yeah,” Clint spoke up suddenly. He’d been walking towards Natasha to get a look at the dart in her hands, and had spotted something on the ground. He held up a small black object covered in a sticky substance, “Found it.”

A long silence. Tony stared at the object in dismay. Steve’s fists clinched in anger. Bruce took deep, calming breaths.

“They took his GPS out,” Tony breathed. He walked over and scanned the chip, making sure it was Peter’s. Once he got the affirmative, he took a deep breath and his faceplate fell down, obscuring any emotion from the others.

“And he’s hurt,” Steve pointed out. He was tense and anger and worried, and it was all evident on his face. Peter was more than a teammate to the man, and he got furious when any of his teammates were hurt. Peter was his charge, his responsibility, “That’s blood.”

A low, guttural sound came from Bruce. If possible, Steve tensed further. Sam put a hand on Bruce’s arm.

“Bruce. Man, calm down,” Sam said calmly, “Don’t get all Hulk on us right now. That’s the last thing we need.”

“Take him back to the tower, Sam,” Tony said, “And Bruce, don’t you dare ruin my tower.”

“I want to help,” Bruce said. He looked a bit green.

Steve shook his head, “This isn’t a job for Hulk. Go home.”

For a moment, it almost looked like Steve’s words would push the man over the edge. He shook with fury and Tony cursed loudly, flying towards the man in case Hulk made an appearance, but Bruce simply took a deep breath and steeled Steve with a look.

“I don’t have to be Hulk to help find Peter,” Bruce said quietly, though it was clear that he was going to obey.

“Hey!” Natasha huffed as she walked forward. There was an annoyed look on her face, “We are all going to help find Peter. He’s our teammate. No one is going home.”

A short moment of silence passed. Everyone stared at Natasha in slight surprise. It was rare that anyone, even Natasha, defied Steve’s orders lately.

Yet, Steve nodded. He took a deep breath and steeled his expression.

It was painfully obvious just how worried everyone was.

“Tony, fly around the city and scan for Peter. Sam, follow him in case he finds Peter to help. Alert us if you find anything. Clint, get Coulson on the phone immediately. Natasha and Bruce, get as many of these darts or anything that you can find that could give us a clue as to what happened. Find Peter.”

Everyone set to work before the words finished falling out of Steve’s mouth.

* * *

 

A few hours later, they met back up at the tower with no leads. Bruce was in the lab, researching the darts, and Tony had disappeared off to his own rooms to make some phone calls. When asked who he was calling, he wouldn’t respond. Natasha had disappeared off somewhere, though when he asked Clint, Steve was informed that the spy was currently sharpening her knives. Bucky sat in the chair opposite of Steve, fists clinched, Lucy sitting in his lap silently.

“We’ve got nothing,” Steve said, clenching his jaw as he gripped the back of a chair roughly, “Tony couldn’t find him. Whoever took him obviously knew what they were doing.”

“I thought this might happen.”

Coulson had arrived shortly after being called. He’d gotten the rundown by Steve, and had been mostly silent ever since, deep in thought.

There was a long moment where no one said anything, and then Bucky said in an icy cold voice that sent shivers down everyone’s spines, “You thought this might happen?”

They were all still worried about Bucky and the whole Winter Soldier thing. It was one of the reasons why Bucky didn’t often leave the house. Everyone, even though no one outright mentioned it, was worried he might snap.

So, at his tone, Steve immediately tensed up and put a hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

“It’s why I gave him the pen,” Coulson turned a hard eye on Bucky, unafraid, “Spiderman has been getting a lot of media attention lately since he’s been seen with the Avengers. Many people have been speculating that you are harboring The Winter Soldier. At SHIELD, we were worried that HYDRA may try to get to Barnes through Peter. It seems we were right.”

“What does that mean?” Steve asked. His grip on Bucky’s shoulder tightened as images flashed through his mind.

A short moment of silence resided, and then Bucky spoke quietly, “They’re going to torture him. For information. About me.”

“Most likely, yes,” Coulson said with a nod. His voice was soft, sounding more concerned than Steve had ever heard him, “I’m calling in some of my agents to the case. This is SHIELD’s number one priority at the moment. Peter has a lot of information that they could get out of him.”

Sam stood up quickly, eyes glinting dangerously, “Peter would never sell us out.”

“I never said that. That doesn’t mean they won’t try,” Coulson countered, “They have no qualms on torturing teenagers. The faster we find him, the more likely it is that we can get him back in one piece.”

Steve felt sick at those words. He sat down quickly and shook his head to try and clear out the horrible images that attacked his mind. He didn’t want to think of that. Peter was going to be fine.

“We’ll find him,” Coulson said sternly, looking right at Steve.

All of the Avengers cared about Peter, but only Steve had Peter listed as his charge.

The door opened and Tony walked in swiftly, “I have called all my contacts. They’ll be here shortly. Katniss called some people too. JARVIS is currently searching through cameras, seeing if any caught Peter or his kidnappers leaving that alley. I’m also-“

He stopped at he spotted Coulson and pointed at him, “What was in that pen?”

They all paused now, turning to Coulson. It was a question that had been plaguing them for a while, and now that something had happened to Peter and Coulson had admitted he’d suspected it might happen, it was easy to conclude that the pen was definitely important.

“Does it have a GPS in it?” Clint asked, eyes hard.

Coulson shook his head, opened his mouth as if to respond, then shut it. He sighed and reached in his pocket, pulling out a pen identical to the one he gave Peter. He pulled out a pocket knife and gently pricked the tip of his index finger with it. He turned the pen to the wall, pressed the drop of blood to the side, and a laser erupted from tip.

Everyone jumped back in surprise, and Tony let out a girlish shriek as a hole was pierced through the wall.

Coulson pressed the button on the bottom of the pen, and the laser turned off.

“What. Was. That?” Tony asked, staring at the wall with wide eyes.

“This is a new gadget we’ve started using at SHIELD. It’s used as a last ditch devise. Seemingly harmless, it only activates when it comes in contact with blood,” Coulson explained.

“Blood,” Tony said simply, frowning, “So, if Peter wants to use it, he has to be bleeding.”

“He’ll be bleeding,” Coulson said certainly.

Steve stood up abruptly, “We need to find him. Now.”

* * *

Peter wasn’t sure how long he was unconscious, but when he came to, he was strapped to a cold table in a dark room. His suit was still on, but his mask was off and he could feel that a section of his suit had been cut off.

He let out a groan. His head was pounding and his entire body felt sore.

“Hello?” he called, head feeling fuzzy. He pulled on his arms and groaned as he felt them tied down. He pulled hard, trying to put some of his super strength on them, but they weren’t budging.

He frowned and groaned. His entire body was sluggish, and though he knew he should be panicking, he wasn’t. He couldn’t drag up the energy to feel any emotion.

A door opened and Peter’s eyes drifted towards it. Light filtered into the room and an indistinguishable figure walked in.

“My, my, awake already?” an unrecognizable voice spoke. Peter frowned, but didn’t respond, “Looks like we’ll need to bump up the dosage next time.”

His mouth didn’t seem to work. He mumbled something, but even he wasn’t sure what it was.

This didn’t seem to bother the voice. The figure slowly walked up to the table that Peter was on and patted his cheek like he was a child. His vision slowly adjusted, until he could see a woman standing above him, smirking widely.

She was not what he expected as his kidnapper. It wasn’t the woman from the alley, that much he was sure, but they were probably related. She was petite, though she held an air of power around her. Her brown hair was pulled back in a tight bun and her dark eyes were sharp. A smirk covered her pale face and she was wearing what looked to be a lab coat.

“Do you know why you are here?” she asked him. Her voice was like ice as it seeped into his ears and sent shivers down his body.

It was only then that he realized something. His suit was gone. He was stripped down to his boxers, and he thanked whoever was out there that those were left on. They had taken his suit, and with it his webs. And the odd pen. Despite still being oblivious to its importance, he felt like he needed it on him. His com was gone, so contacting the Avengers was out. And-

He was pulled out of his thoughts by a sudden stinging across his cheek. He gasped, eyes snapping towards the woman who rubbed her hand gently. Had she really just slapped him? Wow, not cool.

“I asked you a question,” she growled, eyebrows raised, voice laced with a deadly poison.

His mind had cleared a bit. Surprisingly, the slap had helped push back some of the fog. He swallowed and opened his mouth to speak. This time, it was understandable, if sounding rather slurred, “Lemme guess, you’re big fans and wanted to have a play date.”

She let out a growl. The previous, slightly playful expression etched on her face had disappeared so fast that Peter wasn’t even sure it had been there at all. She backed away from him and moved into an area of the room hidden by shadows. He frowned as he heard the distinct sound of a drawer opening, and she rummaged around it, the sound of metal clinking together echoing through the room and sending dread down his spine.

“Ah,” he heard her sigh in satisfaction before making her way back to him, her body slowly emerging from the shadows. In her hands, she held small dagger, sharp and glinting off the slight light coming in the room from the hall.

After a moment, she came back to standing beside Peter. He jumped as she lightly pressed the edge of the knife against the exposed skin on his arm.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to play with knives?” he asked, laughing nervously.

“Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” she told him, voice suddenly cheery, “I am going to ask you some questions. You are going to answer them. If you don’t, we’ll play a game called ‘How long can Spiderman hold out before he breaks’! Understand?”

Peter swallowed thickly and glanced up at the woman. The fog had completely cleared now and he pulled against the restraints, trying desperately to use his strength to break them.

“Oh, don’t bother with that,” the woman taunted, smirking at him, “Those restraints were created to hold The Hulk.”

He closed his eyes and his arms fell limp as she dug the knife into his arm. He sucked in a sharp breath at the sudden pain but made no noise other than that.

He would heal. He could handle this.

“Now, what do you know about the Winter Soldier?”

His eyes shot open. He looked at the woman with disbelief, “What?”

“The Winter Soldier,” she repeated. Her eyes were alight with excitement and the knife dug farther into his flesh. Drops of blood sprung to the surface, leaking slowly down his skin, “What do you know about him? Where is he staying? How did he break free?”

“I-I” he felt a little light-headed. The entire situation was so surreal. He bit his lip hard, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

This was Hydra, he remembered. They were the ones who had hurt Bucky. He wasn’t giving them anything.

She let out a growl and pulled the knife up. He breathed in slight relief, only for a scream to be torn from his lips when she dug the dagger into his thigh, all the way to the hilt. Pain shot up his body as he was stabbed and he pulled roughly at the restraints. A cry of pain echoed through the room as she tore the knife out of him.

He felt blood leak out of the wound. It was warm and sticky as it covered his thigh and he focused on his breathing, squeezing his eyes shut.

He would not crack.

“You are part of the Avengers, Spiderman,” the woman growled, grabbing his hair roughly and whispering in his ears, “Everyone knows it. You’ve been seen with them. I know that Captain America is hiding The Winter Soldier. You know where he is, and you will tell us where he is and how to find him. Okay?”

He sucked in a breath and opened his eyes, staring straight at her, “You must be really dumb if you think stabbing me will make me tell you anything.”

She let out an angry snarl, as if an animal, and tossed the dagger away. It hit the wall and bounced down, clattering onto the floor.

She suddenly reached out, wrapping her fingers around his throat and digging them in. He gasped, his air being withheld from him as she choked him and leaned forward, eyes glinting dangerously.

“Listen here, Spiderman. This is HYDRA. We can do things to you will ruin you. We can kill you, your family, your friends. We can erase your memories and force you to kill them yourself. We can torture you until you go insane. And we will if you don’t tell us everything you know about The Winter Soldier.”

His heart felt like it was about to beat out of his chest. He couldn’t breathe. His throat yearned for air. He pulled at the restraints as hard as he could, desperate to escape. Black spots were appearing around his vision, slowly pulling him away…

And then the hand restricting his respiration was gone. He gasped for air, filling his lungs with it, and coughed violently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this took so long. Like I said in the last chapter, I've been extremely busy with school. Senior Year is killing me, guys! This story will probably be slow on the updates, but I have not forgotten about it, so fear not! Literally, this chapter was written over several weeks. The beginning was written a long time ago.
> 
> I know that I've gotten several offers to be my Beta reader. I have not chosen yet (mainly because I've been too busy to sit down and choose), so this chapter has not been beta-ed. I will choose soon, so those who have offered, be on the lookout for my response. Before the next chapter, I will choose and you can start editing. I would have waited to put this out until I had a beta but I felt like you guys have waited long enough.
> 
> So, this chapter answered a few questions. It wasn't as long as I wanted, and I didn't get to Deadpool, but don't worry, Deadpool will be appearing in the next chapter. I promise.


	4. An Escape Attempt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deadpool and Daredevil show up, Peter gets tortured, and Tony reminisces on puppies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Super sorry that this took so long, but I GRADUATED!!! Half of this chapter was written like, last year, while the other half was written yesterday. I hope it's not too obvious. I took AP Literature this year and my teacher was super strict but he really helped me with my writing. Hopefully, that means that there is an improvement!
> 
> Chapters should be coming at a steady pace now. I plan to have this story finished by the end of June. I'll be getting a part time job this summer but I'll have much more free time. You guys no longer have to wait for months to read the next chapter! 
> 
> Warnings: Torture of a minor. Also Deadpool.

“Sir, Mr. Wilson has arrived.”

Steve sent Tony a look as JARVIS spoke up, not even ten minutes after Tony had gotten off the phone with whoever he’d called. He didn’t know anyone with the last name of Wilson other than Sam, and last he checked, Sam was out flying around the city, searching. JARVIS also never told Tony when one of the team arrived back at the tower, to Steve’s knowledge.

Steve had found Tony in his lab, searching through as many security cameras that he’d had JARVIS hack as possible, but had yet to find anything. He had decided to help, unsure of how else to help find Peter.

“Who is it?” he asked the other man.

Tony didn’t respond, simply saying, “Send him up, J.”

“Sir, he is already on his way.”

“Already?” Tony sounded surprised.

“I couldn’t stop him,” JARVIS sounded disappointed. Steve was surprised.

There was a moment of silence before Tony took off to the elevator in a quick pace, Steve right behind him, “Tony. Tony! Who is here?”

Steve didn’t have much patience at the moment. He was stressed and on the verge of freaking out. He didn’t have time for Tony’s games.

The man didn’t answer him until they were in the elevator.

“Look, he can help us,” Tony said simply. He sounded oddly nervous.

“Tony,” Steve spoke dangerously.

“He’s dangerous,” Tony said slowly, “And more than a little annoying, but he’s good at finding people.”

The elevator opened and Steve stepped out, about to demand Tony to tell him who it was. Before he could, though, he was faced with Natasha holding a gun to a man dressed in a red suit that was a bit similar to Spiderman’s, though not exactly.

The man did not seem at all concerned by the gun, or the fact that the woman behind it was a highly trained assassin.

“Deadpool,” Tony said. His voice was icy. Steve could immediately tell that he didn’t like this Deadpool guy very much. Yet, he was the one who called him. Odd.

“Ah, tin-can,” Deadpool spoke cheerfully, “Got your call! Glad you finally decided to put me on the Avengers.”

Tony quickly shook his head, “No. No way. This is a one-time thing, Deadpool.”

The man, Deadpool, put his hands on his hips and, despite wearing a mask, managed to look rather offended, “I’m hurt, Stark. I thought we were besties.”

Tony stared at the man for a long moment, looking like he was trying very hard not to pull out his suit and pummel the man into oblivion.

“Tony,” Steve spoke after a long moment of silence, “Please explain.”

Tony did not get a chance to as Deadpool suddenly began jumping up and down, “O.M.G!” he shouted excitedly, clapping his hands, “It’s Captain American!”

He raised his eyebrows at Tony, who simply shrugged.

Deadpool continued and held out his hand, “Merc with a mouth, at your service.”

Reluctantly, Steve shook his hand. Deadpool stared at his hand as if it had just been blessed by God.

“Deadpool is a mercenary,” Natasha suddenly spoke up, “He’ll do anything for money, including killing every last one of us. He also has a heightened healing ability. He can survive anything.”

“Anything?” Steve asked disbelievingly.

Natasha smirked, “Anything. I could shoot him in the head right now and he’d be back up in a few minutes.”

Tony gave a sudden nervous laugh, “Yes, let’s not try that out in my tower, though.”

Steve shook head, completely baffled. He couldn’t understand why Tony, who seemed to really dislike the man, would even call him. He seemed insane and definitely not well-liked around the Avengers. They were really going to trust this guy to help them?

“Look,” Tony explained with a grimace. He crossed his arms over his chest, keeping an eye on the red-clad man, “He can’t die. He could be really helpful finding Spiderman if we have to raid HYDRA.”

“Spiderman!” Deadpool slapped his hands on his cheeks and jumped up and down like a fangirl, “Ooh, he’s got such a nice –“

“He’s fifteen,” Natasha growled, cocking the gun in her hand. There was a look in her eye that Steve had never seen before… and he’d seen Natasha when she was angry. He’d seen her take people down and fight without thinking twice about the person she was hurting. He’d never seen her look so protective. Most of the people that Natasha took down were simply a job. This was much more than that.

Deadpool let out a yelp and the eyes on his mask seemed to widen, “Fifteen! Never mind. Forget I said anything. Yes, I know. We’re going to have to forget about that.”

Well, at least he seemed to have some morals.

Who he was talking to, though, Steve had no idea. He was pretty sure that he was not going to find out any time soon. He was not about to ask.

“Look, Deadpool,” Tony said suddenly, creating a fist in one hand and looking like he was trying really hard not to punch him. His face looked almost pained from having to talk civilly, “Spiderman is missing. He’s been taken by HYDRA. We’re trying to locate him right now to get him out of there but we’re going to need your help. This is a one-time deal, understand?”

Deadpool put his hand to his forehead and saluted Tony, “Aye, Aye, Tin Can.”

Tony’s eye twitched. Steve watched in silence, befuddled and also getting a small kick out of how Deadpool was annoying Tony.

“Deadpool,” Steve finally spoke up, “Spiderman is not just a teammate here, okay. He’s family. If you’re on board, I need to be sure you aren’t going to do anything that might jeopardize the rescue mission.”

Deadpool just turned and began walking to the kitchen. He called out to them as Tony started chasing after him, “Don’t worry about me. I would never do anything like that! I’m an angel!”

As the door behind Deadpool and Tony slammed shut, and Steve heard Tony let out an annoyed shout, he turned to Natasha, “Should I be concerned?”

“Very,” she answered grimly, finally putting her gun up once Deadpool was out of her sight. She didn’t keep her eyes off the door though. She seemed more tense than usual, “Deadpool is dangerous. I just hope that Tony is paying him well. If someone else pays him more than us, he can easily be put against us. I don’t trust him. At all.”

* * *

 

It wasn’t much later before the next person showed up. The team plus Deadpool was assembled in the living room, going over information and strategies on how to find their youngest team mate, when a man dressed in red with devil horns suddenly walked in.

Unlike Deadpool’s appearance, Natasha did not react negatively and simply glanced over at the man as if he was a regular visitor. Clint jumped up, a grin on his face as he greeted the newcomer like an old friend.

“Daredevil!” he exclaimed, “Didn’t expect you here so soon.”

“Wait,” Tony spoke, standing up sharply, eyebrows raised, “How did you get in here? JARVIS? Why was I not alerted?”

“He asked me not to,” JARVIS answered simply, sounding a bit amused.

The tips of the man’s lips quirked upwards, “JARVIS and I are pretty close.”

“I don’t even know you!” Tony exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Clint suddenly, “Who is he?”

Clint smirked at Tony and slapped the finger away, “This is Daredevil. Also known as the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen. We shared a dumpster once. He’s got a really nice nurse. She patched me up pretty well.”

“Okay,” Tony spoke slowly, narrowing his eyes at Clint before turning back to Daredevil, “And what’s your real name? I need to run a background te-“

“I prefer to remain anonymous,” Daredevil said quickly.

Tony did not seem to understand this for a long moment but before he could protest this, Deadpool has jumped from his seat, cheerily clapping his hands like a small child, “Oh, wonderful. I love a good mystery.”

“No,” Natasha spoke sternly, and said nothing more. She was glaring at Deadpool as if he had taken the last piece of cake.

Steve about had enough of this. There was too much joking around. He stood up suddenly, “Enough,” he spoke sternly, “We need to find Spiderman. Now is not the time.”

There was silence for a long moment before Deadpool laughed and clapped his hands excitedly, “Alright. Let’s get killing.”

* * *

When Peter awoke again, it was to a sharp sting on his cheek. He hissed and his eyes snapped open. As they adjusted to the darkness in their room, he focused on the woman.

“Wake up,” she snapped. Her long, slender fingers reached out, gripping his hair tightly and pulling his head back, “Time for more talking.”

He glared at her and didn’t speak. If she wanted talking, she was going to get silence.

Her eyes narrowed at him and she slapped him again. He grimaced, but refused to speak.

“Alright, kid,” the woman spoke lowly, “How about I ask you some questions first?”

Again, he didn’t answer, simply staring up at her defiantly.

“Where is the Winter Soldier?”

Silence. He clenched his mouth closed. Bucky was his friend. No, he was more than that. He was family. Peter would never give him away.

She shook her head in disappointment. She reached out and gently tapped his cheek before cupping his chin, forcing him to look straight into her eyes, “Now, now. Be a good boy,” she whispered, smirking suddenly, “The knife didn’t work, which is a shame, but I have many more toys to get you to speak.”

Fear twisted in his stomach but he refused to show it on his face, keeping his expression hard as he stared at her.

She tutted softly and moved away from him. He turned his head to watch where she was going and unconsciously tugged at the bindings keeping him attacked to the table.

The woman moved to the table nearby and picked up what looked to be a large cow prodder. His heart skipped a beat as she turned to him, a sick smile stretched over her thin lips, “I’ve wanted to use this for a while, now. Of course, we have more… advanced tools here, but there is just something so satisfying about it.”

She moved towards him and he struggled a bit harder, to no avail. She let out a laugh, seemingly rather ecstatic about the fear now showing on his face. She turned it on and suddenly jammed it into his lower rib, causing his body to seize and a mangled scream to escape his lips.

As she pulled it away, she smirked widely, “Do you know what this is called?” she asked him, ignoring his panting and shaking body, “It is a picana. It was based off the cow prodder but designed _specifically_ for torturing humans.”

He felt bile rising in his stomach at her words. Why would anyone create something like that? He sometimes forget how sick and twisted humanity was.

Then, suddenly, the picana was pressed against his ribs again, this time on the other side. He screamed louder, if possible, unable to bite it back.

“It used to be used in Argentina,” the woman continued speaking as if she was telling the story of her grandparents instead of the origins of the weapon she was using to torture him with. As she spoke, she continued pressing it into his body, smirking as he screamed from the pain. Not once did she pause in her explanation, “The police would use it to get information out of prisoners. Paraguay, Uruguay, and Bolivia are said to have used it as well, but it was mostly centered in that area of the world. I, however, rather enjoy the instrument.”

She moved it down to his lower stomach.

“Now,” she was suddenly right by his ear and he must have blacked out for a moment because he didn’t remember her moving, “Why don’t you answer my question? Where is the Winter Soldier?”

“No,” he grit out through the pain.

The picana was pressed against his chest again and hid screams echoed off the concrete walls.

* * *

 

It was dark in his lab. The only light came from his computer and a few electronics. He was furiously scanning through clips of security camera footage, attempting desperately to find something useful.

It had been two days since Peter’s disappearance. Tony Stark had not slept since.

Of course, it wasn’t unusual for Tony to stay up so late. He was hyped up on coffee and ready to go, scanning all of JARVIS’ databases for any kind of clues as to where they took Peter.

He had found very little to track down the young Avenger and Tony could not help but feel guilty.

If he had hidden the GPS better, somewhere where HYDRA would not have been able to find it so easy and cut it out, they could have already tracked Peter and been on their way to rescuing him.

“Sir,” JARVIS spoke up suddenly, “Might I recommend that you go to sleep? You have not slept in fifty two hours.”

He grimaced and rubbed a hand across his forehead, sighing, “Has Peter been found yet?”

“No, sir.”

“Then I’m not going to sleep.”

He began flicking through several security camera footage that he had hacked again. They were of a suspected HYDRA facility. There was no sign of Peter.

“Sir,” JARVIS spoke up once more, “I believe that you will not be of much use to Mister Peter unless you sleep.  Sleeping improves focus and it can be detrimental to your health if you do not sleep.”

He sent the air a betrayed look, “Any time spent sleeping is time that Peter is in the hands of HYDRA, being tortured.”

“You will not be at peak performance for a rescue mission if you do not sleep,” JARVIS spoke, and Tony hated that his AI was right, “I will keep running facial recognition through the footage while you sleep.”

Tony hated to admit that he was not doing very well at staying awake. He was nodding off even at the moment, no matter how hard he tried. Sure, he was used to all-nighters, but it was getting a bit much.

So, with guilt rising in his stomach, he made sure everything was still running and headed off to bed.

He headed up to the main floor to grab a glass of water before he slept, dimly aware that he had not hydrated himself in quite some time. That was something that would not take very long and was definitely necessary if he wanted to be on his game when the rescue mission went forth.

The elevator doors opened as they reached the main floor and he stepped through, rubbing his eyes lightly. He really was exhausted.

He paused momentarily, however, upon seeing the couch. Barnes was there, sprawled out along the couch. Lucy was curled up at his feet. The dog bed had been brought out of Bucky’s room and laid at the foot of the bed and the seven week-old puppies were curled up together, slumbering peacefully.

He wasn’t sure why Barnes was not in his room but he bet it had something to do with Deadpool.

Even though he was not particularly fond of the puppies and their unwelcomed presence in his tower (seriously, why did Bucky not get that dog fixed once he got it?), he envied their ability to sleep, oblivious to what was going on.

Before he woke up Barnes, he quickly headed to the kitchen, got a glass of water, and made a beeline for the elevator.

He would sleep for a few hours. He couldn’t be sure how _well_ he would sleep. It would surprise him if he felt much rested upon awaking, but he would sleep more once Peter was safe at home.

* * *

 

Peter was unsure as to how long he had been in HYDRA’s hands. It felt like forever but, honestly, was probably not even a week. He had been tortured, quite a bit. To any other person, the torture that he had gone through would have killed him. They had stabbed him many times, demanding that he give them information on the Winter Soldier.

He refused.

He would rather die than give them something that could possibly hurt Bucky.

At this point, he was worried that he would die.

Or, if he didn’t die, he was worried that they would turn him into a weapon. He knew that they could. Bucky was living prove. He was terrified that he would hurt his family. After everything that they had done for him, he could kill them. They had taken him in, trained him, comforted him after his aunt’s death, encouraged him… and he would never hurt them willingly but… he was pretty sure it wasn’t going to be willing.

So, when he woke up feeling a bit stronger than before, as they had left him alone for enough hours for his body to mostly heal from the torture and the drugs that they were continually pumping into him to wear off, he immediately got to work.

He tugged on the restraints, eyes glancing around the room for anything that he could use. The room was mostly bare. There was a few knives and other objects on a table nearby, some of them coated with blood from the last torture mission. He hadn’t paid much attention to it, normally trying _not_ to focus on it, but it could be helpful.

His webshooters were there. He hadn’t noticed them before. They were mostly hidden behind the picana, tossed unceremoniously onto the table. He was fairly certain that they were there to taunt him, as they clearly did not think he could escape out of the restraints. However, they had an opposite effect on him. They filled him with hope. If he could get those…

He tugged hard on the restraints and a small grunt escaped his lips. He pulled again, focusing on one arm this time and putting all of his strength behind it.

He normally did not use all of his strength… ever. It was dangerous and he did not want to kill anyone, so his full strength was only ever used to lift things, which only occurred on a rare occasion.

Now, without the effects from the drugs or torture wearing him down, he took a deep breath, and _pulled_.

The restraint gave a bit, causing a gasp to escape his lips. His brown eyes lit up suddenly, hope filling him. He pulled again, hard and fast, and felt the restraint snap in half.

His hand was free. His arm was stiff from lack of movement as he held his hand up to his face, staring at it in amazement. Dried blood covered it and his wrist was rubbed red and raw, but he paid it little attention as he immediately reached for the other restraint, running his hand over it to find out how to undo it.

It took him a long moment but he found a small latch under the table. He was glad that Natasha had been working with him on flexibility, as he never would have been able to twist his body in such a way to reach it. He tugged on the latch and his other hand was suddenly freed. After repeating the process on either ankle, he hopped off of the table with excitement flooding through him.

Without wasting any time, he darted to the table and grabbed his webshooters, quickly putting them on his wrist. Immediately, that sense of helplessness that had been flooding through him ever since he had first woken up in this prison ebbed away.

He went to walk away but his hip bumped the edge of the table. Normally, it wasn’t even something that he would notice if it hadn’t been for a laser suddenly erupting from the table and shooting a hole through the wall and outside.

He jerked away from the table, spider sense erupting in the base of his skull, and pointed his webshooters at the object that created the laser… only to freeze.

It was the pen that Coulson had given him. When he had bumped into the table, it had rolled and just barely touched a nearby knife that was coated in dried blood.

He stared at it for a long time before slowly picking it up. The moment his hand, which was coated in dried blood, touched it, another laser shot out, shooting yet another hole through the concrete walls. He dropped it back onto the table in surprise and it was back to looking like any other normal pen.

“Whoa,” he whispered under his breath. This was _impressive_ technology and when he got home, he was going to grill Coulson until the man told him how this worked.

There were now two large holes in the wall and, being careful to stay out of the path of the pen (which he worried could go off again at any moment), he walked over and peaked through them.

Trees met his vision. The concrete wall was the only thing that separated him from the outside world, from freedom.

The only question was how to get out.

HYDRA was sure to have surveillance at every corner, not only guards but cameras too. If Peter knew where said cameras were, or where the guards were located, he could escape easily now that he had his webshooters in his hand. Heading out of the room and further into the facility was dangerous, but Peter would do it if it meant the possibility of escape.

He did not want to become their weapon.

Luckily, there was another means of escape and he held it all in his hands.

Smirking, his brown eyes glanced back to that metal table, covered in dried blood and torture devices. That seemingly innocent pen lay on the table, beckoning him forward. He glanced once more at the holes in the wall before walking around behind the table. Making sure that the pen was pointed at the wall, he reached down and wrapped his hands around it once more.

The laser shot out again and, this time, Peter did not drop the pen. Instead, he held it in his hands and carved a large hole into the concrete, large enough for him to easily fit through to escape.

Once the large slab fell off, onto the grass, creating a small cloud of dirt to rise, Peter dropped the pen back to the table. The laser immediately shut off. He didn’t bother picking the pen up again. He did not understand what was turning it on and he would rather not laser off his legs while running away from the facility.

His spider sense suddenly erupted and his enhanced hearing picked up on the sound of footsteps running closer and closer towards the room that he was in. The door flew open before he could react and the woman who had been torturing him for the past few days was suddenly standing there, a large gun pointed directly at his chest. She looked absolutely livid and a chill ran down his spine, a bit of fear filling his stomach.

He took a deep breath and smirked at the woman. His abilities were no longer restricted. She had no control over him and he was more powerful than she was.

Still, all of HYDRA _was_ more powerful than he was. He was not about to stay around until other HYDRA agents came charging in. No, he was going to wait until he had the rest of the Avengers behind him before he tried taking them down.

“No time to chat, my sadistic host. I’ve got to run.”

Without looking back, he took off at a run into the unfamiliar woods, dodging whatever the woman was shooting out of her gun and disappearing into the trees.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! The next chapter should be out soon! My sister has already threatened my life if it is not. Things are starting to pick up. Next chapter, you will see the results of Peter's attempted escape! Thank you to all those who have been keeping up with this!
> 
> Also, my sister has agreed to beta read this! Thanks to all who offered! You guys are the best!


	5. The Hopeless and the Hopeful

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter's attempt at an escape wasn't successful in the way he thought, but it did clue in the Avengers as to where he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Torture of a minor

Peter ran.

He ran and didn’t look back.

His entire body felt slightly sore and it must have been either early morning or late evening, because there was very little light, but he ignored all of it, focusing simply on getting as far from the facility as he could. Once he was back with the Avengers, he could focus on taking them down. For now, he just needed to get away. He was nothing against them by himself, but once he had the rest of the Avengers, they would be a force to be reckoned with.

He just needed to get to them and away from HYDRA. He hadn’t thought that they would just let him escape but he was hoping that it would take them a bit to start going after him. He wanted to get a bit of a distance between the two of them, get a head start. As long as he could get somewhere to alert the Avengers to his location, he would be fine. Once he could contact Tony, he would be safe. If he could just get far enough away from them…

Apparently, he couldn’t do that.

His spider sense went off and he dove to the side as a dart suddenly zoomed past him.

HYDRA was right behind him. They must have gathered together much faster than he thought they would. He had underestimated them.

Another barrage of darts headed straight for him, forcing him to hit the ground in order to avoid all of them. He shot his webshooter at a nearby tree and swung up onto a branch. There was too much open space on the ground for him to continue running. One of those darts would surely hit him if he did.

He cursed softly under his breath, heart beating furiously. If he was going to get out of here, he would have to lose them. He couldn’t escape if they continued using those darts. There had to be at least a dozen HYDRA agents on his tail and if one of those darts hit him, he was going to be out like a light. If he could just get away…

His suit, bloodied and ripped, did not blend well in the trees so hiding was not going to be a possibility. So, instead, he shimmied across a branch and hopped onto another tree, then hopped along another one.

“Okay, Rue. I see the appeal to this,” he muttered under his breath, and a small, almost hysterical laugh escaped his lips. This was not the time to be thinking about the Hunger Games, not when he was running for his life.

The longer he started jumping onto branches, the easier it became. He had a rather good advantage, as he was able to stick to the branches, so falling was unlikely.

The plan was to hopefully hide as much from them as possible. They would not be looking into the trees, too focused on the ground, so it would hopefully take them a bit longer to find him.

Sadly, that didn’t seem to work as well as he had wished. His spider sense screamed at him as dozens of darts lodged themselves into nearby trees, just barely missing him.

“Okay,” he whispered to himself as he continued, jumping from tree to tree at a faster pace, “Use the trees and branches as shields. You can do this, Peter. You’ve dealt with worse. Just channel your inner Captain America.”

He had dealt with worse. His spider sense and flexibility was enough to help him dodge the darts. This was nothing compared to some of the things that he had dealt with.

Or, at least, it would be nothing if those darts were all that they had on them. But this was HYDRA, and there was a reason that they were so powerful.

His spider sense hit him full force so hard that he missed the branch that he was running towards and fell, body hitting the ground hard. A small groan escaped his lips, breath forced out of him, but he desperately tried to pull himself to his feet and continued running. He didn’t have time for-

A round device that looked almost like a grenade landed right next to his head, letting out small beeps that steadily increased in speed. His spider sense was blaring so hard that he knew he would have headache when this was over.

Scrambling to his feet, he tried to put as much space between himself and the grenade-like object.

The beeps quickened until there was suddenly a soft click.

For a long moment, nothing seemed to happen, but Peter continued running as fast as he could.

Then, he suddenly began to feel tired. He noticed a purple gas beginning to surround him. A cough escaped his lips as his legs gave out, sending him into a crumpled heap of limbs on the dirt. Coughs racked his body and black spots covered his vision.

He couldn’t move.

A groan escaped his lips. His senses were beginning to dim but he could hear footsteps approaching him. Panic gripped his heart as he glanced up drowsily.

He almost didn’t recognize her. She was dressed in her usual white lab coat, but there was a gas mask covering her face. He didn’t even realize that it was his torturer until she walked up to him, hooking her fingers under his arms and lifting him into her arms.

He could do nothing to escape from her. Whatever was the gas that had escaped from whatever it was that they had thrown at him was pulling him into the dark abyss of unconsciousness.

As she began to walk back to the facility, he felt his hope drain away. His eyes closed and a small groan escaped his lips as he slipped away into the abyss.

* * *

“Sir?”

JARVIS’ voice broke through his restless slumber easily. He frowned lightly, turning on his bed and burying his head under his pillow. Tony had only been asleep for maybe three hours and it was rather hard to pull himself to awareness, “I thought you wanted me to sleep, J?”

“Sir? I have spotted some suspicious activity that could concern Mister Parker.”

That jerked him awake. He shot up in bed, stumbling out of it, “What is it?”

A hologram suddenly appeared. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and glanced, confused at the footage.

It was the outside of one of the suspected HYDRA facilities. Tony had been keeping an eye on it but he had not managed to get any security footage that showed anything besides the occasional person walking down a hallway and the outside of the building.

He noticed that the security footage was timestamped for a few hours prior, meaning that whatever JARVIS was showing him had happened recently and-

His thoughts were cut off as a red laser, identical to the one that Coulson had used to shoot a hole through his wall (something that Tony was still not happy about), cut through the concrete walls. Tony leaned forward, fascinated. There was a long pause after the laser initially went off before it did so again, and then it was cutting a large hole in the wall.

The concrete slab that it had come out fell to the ground and only moments later, Tony saw a familiar figure hop out of the hole and take off at a run towards the trees.

Tony stared, wide eyed, and said, “Rewind the footage” as Peter’s bloodied form disappeared into the trees.

JARVIS did so and the footage went back until it showed Peter hopping out of the wall.

“Pause it,” Tony said quickly.

He walked up closer, “Zoom in on Peter.”

JARVIS followed his order and the camera zoomed in. Tony stared, both horror and relief flooding through him at the photo of him. He had definitely been tortured. There were faint burn marks on his body and his suit, which had been cut through and obviously stabbed multiple times, was bloody and torn. His hair was dirty and messy and his skin was pale, with dried blood staining it. He looked like a mess.

Still, he was alive.

“He escaped,” he whispered softly, staring at the picture.

“Sir,” JARVIS spoke up, sounding almost regretful, “Mister Parker did not escape. May I have permission to continue the footage?”

The words sent a shiver of disappointment and worry through him but he muttered softly, “Yes.”

The footage continued. Tony watched as Peter disappeared into the trees once more and then, only moments later, dozens of HYDRA agents, wearing gas masks for some odd reason, began chasing after him.

The moment the HYDRA agents were out of view, JARVIS sped up the footage. About twenty minutes was shown passing on the timestamp before the footage slowed as the HYDRA agents returned, Peter’s unconscious body being carried in one of their arms.

Tony cursed loudly at the sight of Peter. He looked weak and beaten.

He was going to have fun taking down HYDRA.

“JARVIS,” he said loudly, not taking his eyes off of Peter’s form, “Give me the address of this facility. Now.”

* * *

It didn’t take long for the Avengers to meet up in the conference room.

Clint hadn’t even bothered to change into his uniform, instead dawning black sweat pants and a purple T-shirt that he had worn to bed. Natasha’s appearance was a stark contrast to him, as she was in uniform, complete with several knives and guns. Both looked thirsty for blood.

Bucky was there as well, seated solemnly and waiting for instructions beside Steve, who was already wearing his uniform, his shield resting beside his chair. Bruce, like Clint, was still in his pajamas, his hair messy but eyes alert. Sam was suited up, a firm look over his face. Thor was standing, Mjolnir in his hands. It had taken Tony a bit to get into contact him, but he had arrived as soon as he had, ready to help Spiderman.

Deadpool, much to everyone’s silent annoyance, was currently taking over the microwave, heating up a chimichanga, while Daredevil stood in the corner, eyes downcast yet he seemed tense and focused.

“The X-Men are going to be here, soon. I’m going to send them the address and they’ll meet us there,” Tony spoke up, standing at the edge of the conference table, “JARVIS has located Peter through some security cameras that we hacked. He attempted an escape using that pen of Coulson’s, though he was caught again. The attempt gave us his location, though, so once we’re all prepared, we are going to save him.”

There was a moment of stunned silence, but it was short. They were superheroes, and they did not waste time. Especially when it concerned one of their own. Even Deadpool, who had pulled his mask slightly up to revealed a heavily scarred face, and was munching on his food, was quiet.

“Is he okay?” Steve asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry. He gripped his shield tightly and there was a dark look in his eye that Tony had never seen before.

Tony took a deep breath and grimaced gently. He hesitated, pondering over if he should show the clip or not, before deciding that his team deserved to see it just as much as he had, maybe even more. Steve, especially, deserved to know what state his charge was in.

“JARVIS,” he spoke up after a short pause of deliberation, “Roll the footage.”

A hologram appeared, and the team, plus the newcomers, watched silently as Peter attempted his escape, only to be caught by HYDRA moments later. Steve winced at the sight of Peter when he hopped through his newly-created hole. The torn and bloody uniform, as well as the not-yet healed bruises that littered his body, did not reassure him at all and only proved to fuel the anger of the team.

Deadpool rubbed his hands together, though, seemingly gleeful and pulled out his swords, “Time for murder.”

“Not yet,” Natasha said sharply, glaring at the red-clad man distrustfully, “Put the swords away until we get there.”

Tony didn’t blame her distrust of Deadpool. He didn’t trust him either. He knew what Deadpool had done, how many people he had killed. Tony knew that the man was only helping them because he was paying him. He would do anything for money.

Tony would pay as much as he had to in order to have the man on their side of this one. Deadpool was ruthless and immortal. He could take dozens of gunshots and keep walking. He was going to be very useful in this rescue mission.

Once it was over, Tony would give him the money and hope that he never saw the crazed man again.

“Is everyone ready?” Steve spoke up before Deadpool had a time to respond to Natasha, as he looked like he really wanted to. Once everyone nodded, he said, “Let’s go.”

* * *

When Peter woke up, he was, yet again, sprawled out on the table, restraints holding his arms and legs down. However, there were a few things that were different. His suit was gone entirely now, leaving him in only his boxers. The room that he was in was not the same one as before, and this time it was completely bare san the table that he lay on. It was dark, the only light coming from a window near the ceiling that was too small for him to fit through.

There was no table filled with the torture devices. There was no sign of his webshooters or that pen that had helped him with his escape…

Except he hadn’t escaped.

They had caught him.

He was still trapped.

A sigh escaped his lips as he trailed his eyes to the ceiling, defeated. He’d been so close to escaping, to going home. It wouldn’t have been long before he would have been able to contact the Avengers, have them pick him up, and then they could have taken down the HYDRA base.

He was so stupid. He should have known not to try escaping before having a better plan. He’d gone in it blind. He’d gotten himself caught.

He tugged on the restraints yet again but they didn’t even budge. He had been drugged and he knew it. His entire body felt sluggish and his vision was slightly blurred. They had given him quite a bit of it this time. He wondered how long he had been out of it. He sincerely hoped that it hadn’t been long. He wanted to be able to know how long he had been missing.

A hopeless feeling filled his body. His eyes fluttered closed and he focused on his breathing, guilt and dread feeling like lead weights at the bottom of his stomach.

HYDRA was going to turn him into a weapon. He just knew it. He was going to be like Bucky, before they had saved him. He knew the stories. He was going to try and kill his family.

Try. He kept repeating that word over and over in his mind. He highly doubted that he could actually bring them much harm. Sure, he was powerful, but he was nothing against the rest of the Avengers. They would easily be able to hold their own against him, so he had no reason to worry about that.

But he was, because he didn’t know what he would do if he hurt one of them. He knew that HYDRA would train him to kill and he knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop it.

Bucky was living proof of that.

It felt like forever, as Peter laid there on the table, eyes closed and breathing slowly getting faster and faster until he was practically hyperventilating, images of himself killing one of his teammates speeding through his mind.

The door opened, light flooded into the room, and his heart skipped a beat, a trickle of fear sliding down his spine. He hated that. He hated that this woman had made him scared of her. He was Spiderman. He wasn’t supposed to be scared.

“Hello, my Spider,” the woman said with a wide smirk. She strolled towards him, the door shutting. The light immediately vanished and for a moment, he couldn’t see her and his heart felt like it was in his throat before she appeared in front of his face, his eyes just barely able to pick up the outline of her body, “You’ve been a very bad boy.”

His heart felt like it was trying to leave for vacation. He stared at the woman, eyes wide, head swimming. He didn’t say anything.

“You can’t leave us,” she said quietly, voice sounding like ice. His eyes flickered down and he saw the outline of a knife in her hands. She lifted it slowly, pressing it against his exposed stomach and slowly dragging down. He hissed in pain and closed his eyes, biting his tongue so that he would stay silent, “You’re never leaving us.”

He took several breaths, trying to keep himself calm. She brought the knife up to his shoulder, sliding it down slowly. She leaned in closer, watching as his blood slid down his pale skin in the dark. There was a sickly fascinated look over her face.

“You can’t escape,” she continued. Her eyes trailed upwards to him, “They won’t find you. You are ours.”

With one quick movement, she lifted the knife in the air and brought it down hard onto his lower stomach. He gasped as he felt the knife sink into the skin. Pain blossomed over his lower stomach again as she wrenched the knife out. He felt blood dripping down his stomach and he swallowed hard, breaths coming out in sharp gasps and tears beginning to slip down his cheeks.

“You really thought you could get away, didn’t you?” she whispered into his ear, her fingers grabbing onto his hair and pulling it hard. He winced, barely even acknowledging her actions. His eyes trailed downwards in his sockets and his mouth fell open slightly, a silent cry escaping.

“I’m going to have quite a bit of fun with your punishment,” she continued to whisper, a low laugh entering his ears and sending shivers of fear down his spine, “Are you ready?”

He refused to answer, clamping his mouth shut and staring intently at the ceiling. She let out a growl of annoyance and let go of his hair suddenly, pushing his head back so it slammed into the metal table. A dull pain sprung up.

There was a moment of silence. Light filled the room again, left, and then returned moments later. The only sound was footsteps as the woman left the room and reentered, this time with two other HYDRA agents.

He turned his head slightly to see them. It was two men, both dawning lab coats like the woman was. One carried an object that he couldn’t see very well in the dark and even when they flicked the light on. By the time his eyes adjusted, he didn’t have time to even speak. A rag was placed over his mouth and then the woman was ordering the men to pour water over it.

He was drowning. He could not breathe. His body jerked as he attempted to make them move the rag but he was held down by the restraints. Panic overwhelmed his body and he shook his head desperately, only to feel rough hands grab his head and force it to stay still.

The rag was gone after a moment, just when he thought that he couldn’t take it anymore, and he gasped for air. He felt the woman dig the knife into his shoulder and a scream escaped his lips, only for the rag to be placed over his mouth yet again and water to be poured over it.

A cycle began to start. He didn’t have time to think. He could practically feel his healing factor struggling to repair the damages being brought to it. Every time the rag was lifted off of his mouth, giving him precious air, the knife dug into his body yet again.

He wondered how much blood he could lose. What was Spiderman’s limit? It was more than the average human but the average human would have been dead by now.

The knife dug into his thigh and he cried out, air being pulled from his lungs at the sudden pain once more. His mind was blank, the only thing filling it being pain now. He couldn’t even do anything but gasp and cry.

They didn’t even ask questions this time. This was torture for torture’s sake. There was no attempts to get information out of him. They were punishing him for his attempted escape. They were simply trying to make him suffer.

He wasn’t sure how long this went on before he lost consciousness, the entire world slipping away from his grip on it.

His lost thought was of his Aunt May, and whether or not he was about to see her.

* * *

It took way too long for them to arrive at the HYDRA base, in Steve’s opinion. He was tense with worry. Not only was Peter in there, injured and in serious danger, but Bucky had insisted on coming along to rescue their teammate… and Bucky had never been on a mission with them.

It had been Bruce’s idea not to let Bucky come along until they could be sure that he wouldn’t go all Winter Soldier on everyone. Bruce, who had experience with the Hulk, had convinced all of them that it would be safer for everyone to keep him on the sidelines, where it was unlikely that he could be triggered by something and start trying to attack them. Steve had tried to convince his friend to do the same this time.

He hadn’t been able to. This time, it was personal for Bucky. He had grown close to Peter and was not about to let them rescue the boy without him. He was going to help, even if they were going to be walking into a HYDRA base.

It was dangerous. It was risky.

Yet, Tony had been the one to give in, stressing to Steve that they might need him. Bucky had been trained to kill and he would have no problem taking out HYDRA agents, due to how much he despised them.

They were not going to be merciful with them. He was Captain America, known for his morals, but there was not going to be any protests coming from him when some of the HYDRA agents fell, and he didn’t care how much his team made them suffer.

Not when Peter was in there.

Not when they kidnapped him.

Not when they tortured him.

The jet landed nearby the base, just far enough so that they wouldn’t be spotted, and the team piled out immediately. Deadpool, looking rather excited, had his swords out and was literally bouncing on his toes.

They were not the first ones there. When they exited the jet, Steve immediately headed over towards the X-Men.

“Glad you could help,” he said with a nod. There was no time for idle chat, “Has Tony already filled you in with the details?”

There was a nod that came from each of them. Wolverine was shooting glares at Deadpool. Steve did not question it.

There was a low rumbling sound. Steve glanced up, briefly alarmed, worried that HYDRA might have seen them and had come to attack, but the only thing that he saw was a man, wearing armor similar to the Iron Man suit, fly towards them, and landing next to Tony.

“Ah, Rhodey,” Tony’s face mask came up and he smiled, “Ready for some action?”

James Rhodes. Steve had only met the man a handful of times and he hadn’t seen the man in quite a while.

There wasn’t any time for catching up.

“Is that everyone, Tony?” he questioned. At the nod that he received from the man, he continued, “Alright. Our main priority is getting Spiderman,” he said quickly, “Get in and find him.”

He quickly dispersed out Com systems for everyone to wear, quickly regretting it once Deadpool began talking, and gave out his orders.

It was time to bring back their spider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed this one! Things are starting to go down. Some characters showed up here, though we didn't really get to see them for very long. That will change this next chapter. I promise.
> 
> Some of you guys realized that Peter didn't escape. I wasn't as sneaky as I thought I was with the title.
> 
> The next chapter should be out by the end of the month.
> 
> I'd love to hear what you guys think. Got any predictions for the next chapter? Let me know!


	6. Bloodbath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Avengers will do anything to get Peter back, but HYDRA has gotten a hold of Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence, mentions of human experimentation.

From his time as Spiderman, Peter had long since learned that when he was injured, the fastest way to heal was to sleep and eat a lot of food. Since the only thing he had eaten since the day he had been kidnapped was two pieces of stale bread that had been shoved into his mouth, nearly causing him to choke, his body had decided that the best thing to do was to basically put him into pretty much a coma in an attempt to heal him.

And so, when his spider sense suddenly flared up violently, an action that would normally jerk him awake, he was only dimly aware of what was going on around him. He could hear the door to his room slam open, though it sounded as if it was far off.

“How did they find us?” he could hear his torturer demanding, shouting over what sounded to be alarms, “Get the kid!”

Dimly, he felt hands grabbing his body, his binds coming undone as he was lifted into the air.

A hand smacked against his cheek. The stinging was hardly noticeable, and he heard a faraway voice demand, “How did they know how to find you?”

His eyes blearily opened. He could see the woman above him, clad in her white lab coat and glaring down at him with piercing eyes. Only, there were three of her. His blinked, and a small groan left his lips. His vision blurred and then came back into focus a bit, and someone was shouting nonsensical words at him that his mind couldn’t comprehend.

Before he fell back into unconsciousness, he heard the words, “…Winter Soldier…” and despite his drugged state, a pit of dread formed in his stomach.

* * *

 

Bucky knew, the moment that he stepped onto the base, gun in hand and armor on, that this had been a mistake.

It was risky. So risky. They didn’t fully understand what HYDRA had done to him yet. He barely remembered his life during his capture by them, only pain and blood. They had been careful not to bring him on missions, wary of whether or not something would be a trigger and Bucky would go Winter Soldier on them.

But he had insisted on going on this mission, because he was not about to sit around and wait for them to bring Peter home. No, he had grown much too attached to the boy to do that.

Yet, after he walked into the facility (following Thor who broke down the door), he knew that he should have stayed at the tower.

He should not have come.

HYDRA agents swarmed them and Bucky swallowed thickly, suddenly struck with the notion that he was going to have to _kill_. Memories threatened to overtake him as he readied his gun, trying to steady his shaking hands.

Steve was shouting orders over the com, but Bucky could not understand it. There was a HYDRA agent running straight towards him and he pointed his gun at them, but his hands shook too much to aim.

He blinked, and suddenly his team wasn’t in eyesight, all of them having run off towards the HYDRA agents, beginning the search through the facility to find Peter. The only one that he could see was Deadpool, and as he saw the blade slice through a HYDRA agent, practically turning him into a shish kabob, he felt his stomach lurch and his knees felt weak.

No.

No, he had promised himself that he wouldn’t kill. Not ever again. He had been so lost in his desperation to bring Peter home that he hadn’t even considered who he would have to go through, and as he stared at the HYDRA agent getting steadily closer to him, all he could think of was that man lying dead at his feet, blood all over Bucky’s own hands. A life lost. A man that could have a family, a future, hopes and dreams.

It was getting harder to breathe.

He couldn’t kill anyone. He couldn’t take another life. Not again.

 _“But Peter is in there,”_ a voice whispered in his mind and his breath caught. His vision blurred.

Petey. Little, innocent Peter was trapped in there, injured and tortured. They had hurt him. They had… they had…

A gasp left his mouth as he suddenly felt the HYDRA agent grab him by his hair, yanking his head back and beginning to whisper into his ear before Bucky even knew what was going on.

* * *

 

Steve had never before seen his team work with so much… rage.

There were no jokes shooting through the coms. There was nobody playing around with the enemy, simply having fun with the fight. No one wasted time to find any information on HYDRA that could be useful in the future.

They were there for one thing and one thing only: to find Peter.

HYDRA, however, was not backing down. It seemed like the moment Steve incapacitated someone, two other HYDRA agents were running towards him, guns blaring. Tony and Rhodey flew around outside, searching for Peter’s heats signature, but they didn’t seem to be having much luck yet. He could hear Hulk roaring dimly in the distance. It had been Natasha’s idea to set him off outside, away from where he could possibly injure Peter but the perfect place to distract HYDRA agents. Deadpool was slicing through HYDRA agents like they were food, laughing all the while, the only sound that came through the coms. The X-Men were nearby, doing a good job at giving Steve a pathway through the building, and Nightcrawler seemed to be having a bit of fun teleporting around and confusing the HYDRA agents. Daredevil was fighting four agents at once, Falcon had Clint in his arms, and the archer was shooting HYDRA agents off from the air. Thor was sending agents flying with his hammer and Natasha was taking out agents left and right.

It was a blood bath.

He held up his Shield to the side to prevent a dozen bullets from attacking him, while he swung his fist into the side of an agents head, watching as the man hit the ground with a thud. His elbow came back from the swing, hitting another agent in the chest, and he just barely swung his shield around to avoid a blast from a nearby gun.

He didn’t know how there were so many of them, and at the moment there was no time to ponder where they were coming from. He had other things to worry about, like getting Peter out of there, or where Bucky was.

They were winning. The HYDRA agents had begun to dwindle in numbers. Yet, Steve couldn’t stop the dread from making an appearance. He shouldn’t have brought Bucky there.

“Capsicle, I’ve got four heat signatures coming from underground,” Tony suddenly spoke over the com, “They’re moving deeper and deeper. One of them is Peter.”

He let out a growl at that and then spoke quickly through the intercom, “Find a way underground. Iron Man, keep an eye on them. Tell us if something changes.”

“You got it- whoa!,” Tony’s response was cut off, “We got HYDRA agents on the roof.”

“Wolverine, Beast, Daredevil, get to the roof. Keep them off of them!” he shouted, knowing that he couldn’t lose his eyes on Peter if he wanted to get the boy out of there.

He knew the moment that the three left to the roof, because he suddenly felt as if the amount of HYDRA agents on him had doubled.

He could barely move from his position. The moment he took a step forward, a HYDRA agent was there to make him take a step back. A quick glance around told him that most of his team was in the same situation, and he knew immediately that there was only three people on his team that would be able to find the stairs.

“Hawkeye, I’m going to need you on the ground,” he said through the com quickly, “Falcon, fly around and find the entrance to get underground. Deadpool and Nightcrawler, I need you to teleport around and find those stairs! Everyone else, cover them.”

There was only a short pause before the actions went into effect. He saw Falcon drop Hawkeye off, and then Hawkeye immediately pulled out knives and began fighting.

The sudden loss of those three in fighting, however, made it all the much harder on the rest of them. Steve found himself fighting off seven different agents at one time. He barely had time to breathe. That did not mean he was about to call them back, though. He could hold his own and, at that moment, the important thing was getting to Peter.

“I found the entrance!” Nightcrawler exclaimed excitedly into his com, just as Natasha let out a string of Russian words that were very obviously curses.

“The Winter Soldier has made an appearance,” Natasha spoke through the com, voice strained.

Those words were enough of a distraction, and Steve gasped when a bullet sliced through his thigh.

* * *

 

“Winter Soldier? Widow, what are you talking about?” Tony demanded into the com. He was flying outside the building, eyes trained on the moving heat signatures underground. No. No. Natasha had to be mistaken.

“This was a mistake,” Falcon spoke, “HYDRA… they must have gotten to him,” he cursed loudly, “We shouldn’t have brought him.”

“Language!” Steve chastised, but Tony could hear the horror in his voice.

Tony flew around the building, following the four heat signatures that had begun to pick up their pace. They were moving farther and farther underground, so much so that he worried that he would lose their signature soon.

“I’m underground!” Nightcrawler chirped into the com, “There’s a lot of HYDRA agents down here though. I’m going to need some help.”

Steve’s breath was hard through the com, and he said quickly, “Can you teleport with other people?”

“Yeah.”

“Take Thor with you,” Steve told the mutant. Tony only half-way listened. He focused in on the four heat signatures fleeing the scene. They were the only ones fleeing. The rest were heading above ground.

“Got it!” Nightcrawler exclaimed.

There was a short moment before Tony heard Thor announce, “Ai, we will find the Man of Spiders.”

Thor’s heat signature was much stronger than the others, and Tony was able to find it easily. Nightcrawler hadn’t been kidding when he said that there was a bunch of agents down there, as Thor’s strong signature was surrounded by dozens of others.

Honestly, though, Tony knew that dozens of HYDRA agents were nothing against Thor. Maybe if it was hundreds… with alien technology.

But it wasn’t, and Tony knew that Thor and Nightcrawler would find Peter soon enough. Just in case, he quickly informed him, “They are going farther and farther underground. The cowards are trying to escape.”

Then, knowing that his job was mostly done, he spoke to Rhodey, “War Machine, take over. Keep an eye on Peter and let them know if anything changes.”

And, with that, he flew in through the door.

* * *

 

“The Winter Soldier has been activated, ma’am,” Peter’s head lolled to the side. He was being carried by someone, and they seemed to be running, if how much he was being jostled was any indication. It irritated his wounds, which did not seem to want to heal, and a small hiss left his lips.

They did not seem to notice.

“Good,” the woman spoke up, “That will buy us time to get out of here. Make sure that they keep an eye on him. I don’t want to lose him again.”

The words bounced around in Peter’s mind. It took him a long time to fully understand it, but when he did, he suddenly gasped, body filled with adrenaline at the news.

“No!” he exclaimed, frantic. He struggled in the arms and must have caught the man by surprise, as he suddenly dropped Peter.

The landing jostled his injuries even more, but he barely felt it. Immediately, he darted to his feet, landing a swift punch to the man’s torso. It’s nowhere near as strong as Peter could normally do, as his strength had been weakened by lack of food and multiple injuries, but its strong enough to daze the man and given him enough time to slam the man’s head against the wall, just hard enough to knock him unconscious.

A hand grabbed his arm and he swung around, kicking them hard in the side. He spun, attaching one foot to the wall and pushing off of it and into the person who had grabbed him. He leaped up, leg crying out in pain at the action, and just barely managed to duck from a punch that came his way.

His spidey sense was blaring at him, a constant buzzing in the back of his mind.

The woman threw a punch and he caught it in the air, before twisting her arm behind her back and pushing her into one of the men. He jumped into the air, sticking one hand onto the ceiling and swinging his legs, slamming into the pair. His entire body protested and he sucked in a breath, but there was only one thing going through his mind.

Bucky was there. They had brainwashed him again. They were going to _take him_.

He couldn’t let that happen.

Mentally thanking Natasha and Clint for their training, he hit pressure points on the HYDRA agents, rendering them unconscious, and stepped back, staring with wide eyes for only a few moments.

He had to get to the Avengers. He had to help them get Bucky.

He did not have his suit. He did not have his webshooters. He was injured and not at all at full strength.

“Well,” he whispered to himself as he took off at a run, doing his best to ignore the pain throughout his body, “Let’s hope all that training pays off.”

* * *

 

“Peter is on the move,” Rhodey spoke hurriedly into the com, causing Steve to inhale sharply, “He’s gotten away from them, it looks like. He’s heading towards you, Thor.”

As he heard Rhodey speaking in his ear, he found himself hiding behind his shield as dozens of gunshots came towards him. He risked a peak out from behind it, and the sight of Bucky, eyes void of any warmth, sent shivers down his spine.

That was not Bucky. That was the Winter Soldier. That was an assassin who was trying to kill them.

“Whatever you do,” he shouted into the com as he saw Natasha aim her gun at Bucky, “Don’t kill him!”

“I didn’t plan on it,” Natasha bit back.

As the Winter Soldier, Bucky did not hold back. He did not worry about his own safety, simply walked forward with guns blazing, eyes hard and dead. It was Bucky’s worst nightmare.

Steve’s leg burned with pain, but he bit through it, knowing that he would have to wait until after it was over to get it looked at.

Clint cursed into the com and, for once, Steve did not chastise him. He did not have the time to do so.

Tony had arrived. Steve glanced up as he saw the blasts coming from the ceiling as he entered, slamming into HYDRA agents. The HYDRA agents, they could deal with. They could take them out, especially with the knowledge of all they had done to Bucky and Peter… They could not take out Bucky. They couldn’t even find it in themselves to really hurt him.

And he was barely letting any of them move. He had two guns, one in each hand. One was shooting at the Avengers on the ground, while the other was aiming for Falcon and Iron Man.

A blast from the gun slammed into Falcon. This time, Steve was the one cursing into the com as Sam was knocked off course, hitting the wall and crumpling to the ground.

“I’m going after Spidey!” Deadpool chirped into the com, voice light and chipper as if everything was going exactly to plan.

Steve almost told him not to, because he honestly wasn’t sure if they could handle losing another person downstairs, but he knew that if anyone had a chance getting to Peter, it was Deadpool with his insane healing ability.

Cyclops shot a laser at Bucky, barely missing his head, and causing Bucky to turn his attention on him. Steve, quickly realizing that the man was in danger, dove in front of him, blocking the bullets with his shield.

“Cyclops!” Steve shouted into the com, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“We have to stop him,” Scott argued with him.

Steve let out a small growl. He felt the bullets hitting his shield and he bit his tongue before he chewed the man out, “We stop him. We do not kill him!”

“I’m trying to keep him from killing us!”

Steve can’t even look up at Bucky. He’s hidden behind the shield, his entire body folded behind it, and staring straight at Hawkeye when a bullet slams into the man’s shoulder. He shoots an arrow at the nearby HYDRA agent who caused it, and the arrow shoots through the man’s heart.

“Thor,” he speaks through the com, deciding to ignore Scott for the moment, “Have you found Peter yet?”

“Not yet, my brother in arms,” Thor responds, “There are many agents of HYDRA down here. We have not yet found the Man of Spiders.”

“The moment you do, get Nightcrawler or Deadpool to get you out of there,” Steve tells him sternly, “And be sure to alert us. We need to get out of here as fast as we can.”

Tony huffs lightly, “I agree.”

A HYDRA agent has come up behind Clint, the gun pointed straight at the unsuspecting archer’s head. Natasha, seeing the attack moments away from happening, spins and shoots the agent in the temple, his body hitting the floor with a thud. Unfortunately, her momentary loss of focus on Bucky has given him an opening, and Steve knows that Natasha’s instincts are amazing, but she won’t be able to dodge this.

He reacts with a split-second thought, sending the shield flying at just the perfect time. The blast slams into the shield and the shield absorbs it, saving Natasha from certain doom.

There’s a brief look of surprise on her face but she wastes no time in swerving out of the second blast that heads her way.

And now Steve does not have his shield.

And Bucky is aiming straight for him.

Steve stares into Bucky’s eyes, full of such… emptiness. He holds his breath and can see Bucky’s finger twitch on the trigger.

He closes his eyes and waits for the pain.

It doesn’t come.

“Alright, Jean!” someone, Steve isn’t sure who exactly it is, barks through the com.

His eyes snap open and he sees that Jean has used telepathy to lift a table and thrown it at Bucky. It blows to bits when the blast hits it, but it saves Steve’s life.

And gives him an idea.

“Jean!” he speaks quickly, “Find a way to trap him somewhere.”

* * *

 

Peter doesn’t exactly know where he is.

That, he finds, is a bit of a problem. He’s in a long hallway, with absolutely no windows but dozens and dozens of doors. There are stairs at the end of the hall, and he almost cries.

He’s already walked up five stories of stairs, and his entire body throbs.

They’re underground. That much, he knows. He does not know how far underground, they are, and for some reason the stupid facility doesn’t have an elevator and wow, he should really not be worrying about _that_.

So far, everything has been eerily silent. His senses are dampened, as his healing ability has been drawing energy from his body to keep him standing this entire time, and so when he finally starts hearing gunshots and yelling, he knows that he is close.

He also knows that walking up those stairs would be a suicide mission. There was no way he could dodge a bullet in his condition, and his mind races to come up with a solution. He had to find a way to get out, while alerting the Avengers and not HYDRA, as to where he was. He had to find Bucky, to somehow stop him from going all Winter Soldier on everyone, and he honestly had no idea how but it was the only thing that he could think about.

_Think, Peter. Think._

An image of Clint flashes through his mind and his eyes flicker up to the air vents.

_Of course._

He sticks to the wall and climbs up to it. He sticks a finger to the nails and turns each one by one, letting them drop to the floor before he is climbing into the vent. He carefully sets the vent cover up and lets out a sigh of relief when it stays, though he imagines that it won’t take much to knock it off.

He no longer had to worry about running into HYDRA agents. Now, he only had to worry about finding his way out of the facility, or at least to the Avengers.

* * *

 

Deadpool had sliced through dozens of HYDRA agents, and was feeling rather proud of himself as he skipped down the hall, swinging his katanas that were drenched in blood. He had left Thor and Nightcrawler behind with the rest of the HYDRA agents, and had decided to continue on in the search for Spidey. He hummed the Spider-Man tune, admittedly beginning to grow pretty bored. He had thought, wrongly so, that there would be more difficult targets up ahead but, so far, things were pretty boring.

“Spider-Man has reentered the other heat signatures,” Rhodey suddenly said, causing Deadpool to pause in his tracks.

_That doesn’t make any sense._

**Spidey is with the HYDRA agents? Surely we would have passed him!**

He turned, about to quickly make his way back when Rhodey continued.

“He’s moving really slow, but the heat signatures around him aren’t moving at all.”

Well, that didn’t make any sense. If HYDRA saw Spidey, they would surely pounce on him, and why would they not be moving?

A sudden thought hit him.

“Are these signatures perhaps a bit spaced out?”

“…Yes.”

His eyes flickered to the doors that he was passing and without wasting any time, he kicked the door down.

The room was dark, but he found the light pretty quickly, only to find himself staring at an elderly woman strapped down to a table, eyes closed and breathing slow. Her skin was very pale and she looked to be on the verge of death. Her veins were glowing a bright green through her skin.

Human Experiments.

Of course.

“Can you see where there are two body signatures closer together than the others?” he asked, and then chuckled a bit, “Not close enough to be getting freaky, but just the right distance to be in the same room.”

There was a long pause and then Rhodey continued, “Yeah. Yeah, I see it.”

“Good. That’s where I am. There are human experiments in these rooms, and I’m pretty sure Spidey is in the vents. How far away am I from him?”

“Not very far. If you are facing towards the door, then he is to your left, about thirty or forty feet if I estimate correctly.”

Deadpool glanced quickly around the room until he spotted an air vent and smirked.

_We’re coming, Spidey._

* * *

 

Above ground, things had begun to settle down. Jean had managed to contain Bucky in a force field, and while Scott worked to make sure no one attacked Jean while she held it up, the rest of them had quickly begun dwindling down the numbers of HYDRA agents.

Steve was able to call Wolverine down from the roof due to this, leaving only Beast and Daredevil to cover War Machine as he kept an eye on Peter. He sent Natasha and Tony downstairs to help Thor and Nightcrawler while he made his way to Falcon. Clint, though injured, was still fighting, and Wolverine was now backing him up.

It was a testimony as to how much better things were going that he was able to check up on his teammate. He knelt beside his crumpled body, quickly checking his pulse, worry stuck in his throat, and let out a sigh of relief when he found it.

“Let’s wrap this up as fast as we can, guys,” he spoke through the com, “Sam needs a medic.”

Professor X had begun to make his way towards Bucky. Steve knew that the man could bring Bucky back.

“Deadpool,” he said quickly, “Report.”

“These vents are very tight.”

He grimaced lightly and held his shield, which had been retrieved not long ago, to prevent a bullet from slamming into him.

“Have you found Spider-Man yet?”

“Nope!” Deadpool responded cheerfully.

Steve sighed, but was a bit relieved by Rhodey’s words, “He’s getting closer.”

* * *

 

Peter was truly and utterly lost.

He was also truly and utterly horrified.

Every time he come across another vent, he peeked through. Every time, he found another person strapped to a table. Children, adults, and the elderly were all being experimented on and Peter had no way of helping them without bringing them into more danger. There were still gunshots going off.

So he kept going, mentally promising that he would ask SHIELD to come back for them.

“Spider-Man. Spider-Man. Does whatever a spider can…”

Peter froze as the soft singing drifted through the vents. His heart began beating furiously in his chest but, oddly, his Spidey Sense did not go off.

Well, any more than it already was.

“H-hello?” he spoke through the vent, voice shaking in nervousness. His voice echoed and his thigh burned painfully from where a stab wound had yet to heal completely.

The singing came to a stop, “Spidey?”

His voice caught in his throat and he coughed, “Who’s there?”

Shuffling greeted him as whoever was in the vents with him began moving towards him. His heart beat faster and his eyes widened.

“Who are you?” he asked quickly.

“Spidey, I’m hurt!” the voice spoke cheerfully, “It’s me, Deadpool!”

“Who?”

A guffaw echoed through the vent and Peter stared with wide eyes as a man dressed in a red suit, with blood-stained katanas attached to his back as he inched his way towards him.

“Don’t worry, Spidey! I’m here to rescue you!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed! Before you guys get excited, this is not going to be Spideypool, as Peter is fifteen in this story.
> 
> Also, how many of you guys have seen Homecoming? Because I have and I absolutely LOVED it! It made me fall in love with Spider-Man all over again and yes, I will definitely be having to incorporate a few things about it in there. Michelle and Ned will definitely make an appearance at some point. I've already got ideas for an upcoming story based off Homecoming, as well. We have A Different Kind of Ultron and A Different Kind of Civil War to go through before that, though.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	7. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The rescue comes to fruition, and the team begins to heal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Violence, murder, panic attacks.

Steve was beginning to grow worried after no response from Deadpool, but then jumped as Deadpool suddenly spoke into the com, “I found Spidey!”

Relief flooded over him and he nearly sank to his knees. He coughed the spoke quickly back at him, “How is he?”

There was a short pause over the line and he could hear scuffling, like someone was fighting over something, and was about to demand what was going on when a new voice spoke up.

“Steve?”

This time, he did fall to his knees. There was still gunshots that rang around him every now and then but the numbers of the HYDRA agents had dwindled dramatically, most of them either fleeing or lying dead around the facility. He was absolutely certain that Natasha alone could handle them, and she had quite a bit of help at the moment.

The sound of Peter’s voice was scratchy but strong and full of hope. Steve never thought that he would be so glad to hear the teenager’s voice before.

“P-Spiderman!” he caught himself quickly, not wanting to jeopardize Peter’s identity to the other heroes on the line, “Are you o-“

“Where’s Bucky?” Peter quickly interrupted him, “They said they triggered him back to the Winter Soldier. Steve, you’ve got to stop him! He’ll never be able to forgive himself if he hurts someone!”

The moment Peter finished, Steve was talking, voice calm, “Bucky is in the Quinjet. He’s okay. We brought the X-Men along and Charles Xavier was able to bring him back.”

He could hear the audible sigh of relief that escaped Peter over the com, and he smiled lightly to himself before continuing, “Can you and Deadpool make your way up here? We’re almost done dealing with the rest of the HYDRA agents.”

There’s another moment’s pause before Peter responds, “Yeah. We’re on our way.”

* * *

 

Peter really wasn’t sure what to think of Deadpool.

On one hand, he was covered in blood, and currently talking to invisible people while the two of them scooted along through the vents, trying to find their way out. On the other, Steve seemed to trust him, and Peter trusted Steve.

“How much wood could a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck would,” Deadpool is proudly proclaiming his skills, the words echoing off the vents, “See!” he boasts to someone that Peter cannot see, and that worries him a lot, “I told you that I could do it!” There’s a pause, and then he sighs, “Fine. Peter Parker picked a peck of pickled peppers.”

“What?” Peter furrows his eyebrows, “That’s not how it goes… and how do you know my name?”

Surely the Avengers wouldn’t have told him that. He had trusted them with his identity. They wouldn’t just give it away like that.

Deadpool didn’t answer immediately, instead simply repeating, “Sally sells seashells but the seashore,” and failing at that one, causing him to curse. Then, he acted as if he had just heard Peter, “Oh, we’re good friends in another universe.”

“Another… universe?” Peter mumbled under his breath, more than a little confused.

Deadpool either did not hear him or decided not to answer, as he continued with the tongue twisters for the next five minutes, until the two of them arrived at the vent. As he is in front of him, Deadpool simply punches the vent out, and then drags himself out. He crashes to the floor in a heap, and Peter pears out at the man when he gets to the vent.

“It’s a bit of a rough fall,” Deadpool announces the obvious as he jumps up to his feet, then holds out his hands as if to help Peter out.

Yeah, no way. Peter was fifteen years old and had super powers. He was not about to be helped out of a vent.

Instead, he pulled himself out until his torso was in the hall, then reached above the vent and placed his hand onto the wall, sticking it. Once he did the same with the other, he dragged the rest of his body out, and crawled down the wall.

His leg protested painfully the moment he put weight on it, but besides a soft hiss, he did not show his pain. Deadpool, it seemed, was actually very observant.

“You’re hurt,” he said, “I should carry you.”

“No!” Peter leaned against the wall and held one hand to his leg, breathing heavily. He glared at the man, “I heal fast. I’m fine.”

Deadpool shook his head and… did his mask’s eyes just narrow?

“ _I_ have a healing factor. You’re hurt. I’m carrying you.”

Peter stubbornly shook his head. He sucked in a breath and then took a step forward, ignoring the pain, “I can walk. See?”

“Nope. You don’t have to convince me, but I am not going to get yelled at by Capsicle,” Deadpool spoke. His voice was cheerful, and it sounded odd to Peter, who had not heard anything resembling cheer in what seemed like forever. He walked in front of Peter and knelt down, “Come on. I’ll give you a piggy back ride!”

Peter frowned and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest and narrowing his eyes at the man, “No. No way.”

* * *

 

Five minutes later, Peter was grumbling as he clutched onto Deadpool, rather uncomfortably, trying desperately not to fall off as the man raced through the hall, katanas drawn with blood still dripping off of them. The man, whom Peter was absolutely certain was insane, was belting the lyrics to “My Shot” from Hamilton, and Peter had never felt so confused in his life.

A part of him is glad for the confusion and annoyance that seems overwhelming. It distracts him from the pain and fear that has been strangling him the past few days.

It doesn’t take them long for them to come across a HYDRA agent. They are rushing down the halls, towards them, looking as if they are trying to flee. They draw a gun when they see them, shouting for them to stay still, and then-

Deadpool’s katanas sliced through their body effortless, as if it was made of jello instead of skin and bones. Peter cries out, and the shock that goes through him causes him to lose his grip. He falls off of Deadpool’s back and lands roughly on his injured leg, eyes glued to the now-dead HYDRA agent before him.

He feels sick. His eyes can’t leave the sight of the body, cut in half and laying in a pool of blood. Wide, terrified eyes stare back at Peter. Their gun clangs to the ground and then lies motionless a few feet from the body. From the dead body. Who had just been alive, and now wasn’t, because _they had been sliced in half._

Fresh blood drips from Deadpool’s katana. He turns to Peter, the eyes on his mask widening, and stares.

“You-you killed them,” Peter chokes out, barely able to speak. His entire body is suddenly shaking and he blinks several times, “You killed them.”

“I prefer the term unaliving,” Deadpool responds, voice chipper as ever, but there’s something in his voice that Peter hadn’t heard before. Something like… worry?

Peter can’t stop staring at the body before him. Bile rises in his throat. His mind can’t seem to comprehend what just happened. Peter doesn’t kill. He refuses to kill anyone, even these HYDRA agents. And the fact that Deadpool had just sliced them like a piece of meat, and Peter had just _watched_ …

He’s turning his body and throwing up the measly piece of bread that he had recently had.

“Aw, come on, Spidey,” Deadpool whines, “That was a bad guy! I did a good thing!”

But Peter barely heard him. The shock that came with witnessing the death of the HYDRA agent suddenly slammed hard into Peter, and he felt the adrenaline seeping away. His energy was crashing, the results of hunger and injuries, causing his eyes to flicker closed. A groan escaped his lips and his body began falling forward.

Hands grabbed him before he fell into the mess he had made a few minutes earlier, and he felt himself being lifted into the air.

The last thing he heard before everything suddenly slipped away from him was cheerful singing.

* * *

 

When Deadpool and Peter had ceased talking through the com, Steve had gotten back into the fight. There wasn’t much to do. The majority of HYDRA agents were either dead or had run off, so Steve was mostly just walking around slowly, making sure that no one was hiding in the shadows. Natasha had disappeared, deciding to do a run through the building to begin helping some of the captive people out. She had already called SHIELD to bring some backup to help them get them out. Nightcrawler had gone with her, but the majority of people were in the Quinjet, waiting for them to come back.

Then, as Steve was rounding a corner, he suddenly came face to face with Deadpool, and his eyes were instantly drawn to the teenage boy in his arms.

Peter looked like a wreck. He was pale and stripped down to just his boxers, and was covered in blood and bruises. He was limp in Deadpool’s arms, and Steve’s stomach knotted in worry.

He surged forward, panic erupting through his veins, “What happened?” he demanded, taking Peter from Deadpool’s arms, eyes raking over his broken body and noting each injury. He swallowed and took a shaky breath, repeating his question, “What happened?”

“We were almost caught by HYDRA,” Deadpool spoke in a cheery voice as he began to skip towards the exit, where the Quinjet was waiting, “I had to unalive them, and he got a bit freaked out.”

Before Steve could say anything else, Deadpool suddenly teleported away. Steve had a feeling that this wasn’t the last time he would see him.

* * *

 

Bruce had thought he was ready when Steve brought Peter in. He wasn’t.

The combination of relief and anger that flowed through him at the sight of the teenager, of his friend, of the boy whom he had come to see as a nephew, had his skin tinted green. Sam, who had awoken and was currently laying down in the QuinJet, temporary bandages wrapped around his stomach (he would be treated more when they reached the MedBay), put a hand on his shoulder, and he focused on his touch. He breathed in slowly, reigning himself in, and had calmed himself down by the time Steve slowly placed Peter on the floor in front of him.

There is only a few minutes between when Peter is placed in front of him and when the QuinJet begins to lift off the ground, taking them to Stark Tower. Rhodey was driving instead of Clint, who usually did it, as Clint was nursing a bullet wound.

Bruce could not do much while they were in the QuinJet. He pressed a towel against Peter’s thigh, trying to stop the bleeding, as Tony used JARVIS to take his vitals, repeating them to Bruce in a low, worried tone.

“He has a mild concussion, a stab wound on his thigh, several lacerations on his torso, broken right index finger, fractured right wrist that’s almost healed, cracked rib, and his body is suffering from starvation and dehydration,” Tony informed him.

Frowning, Bruce examined the wounds, trying to see if any were infected, “The starvation probably affected his healing ability. We’ll have to watch that carefully. He’ll probably heal slower than usual.”

There’s a murmur of acknowledgement from the rest of the team, sans Natasha who stayed back to help SHIELD get the others out of the HYDRA base.

Bruce knows that no matter what, the team is going to make sure that Peter heals, both physically and mentally. They all know, some of them firsthand, what torture can do to someone and Peter is only fifteen years old.

The rest of the ride back to Stark Tower is in silence.

* * *

 

Bucky wakes up in the MedBay a few hours later. His head is pounding and his entire body feels sore. He blinks awake, memory fuzzy, and tries to think of what happened that would have landed him there. The last thing that he can remember is entering the HYDRA base.

He is quick to notice Steve beside his bed, leaning back in a chair and sleeping. He’s leaning slightly to the opposite side of Bucky, with a bandage covering his thigh, and he notices that his friend is clutching the hand of whoever is in the bed next to him. It takes him a moment to recognize Peter’s sleeping face. It’s bruised and he looks so much paler than Bucky remembers. His stomach clenches.

He turns his head forward and notices that both Sam and Clint are in the other two beds. They’re both awake, however. Sam is shirtless, and there is bandages wrapped tightly around his torso as he reads a book. Clint is tossing a ball into the air and catching it with one hand, the other wrapped in bandages as well.

He shuffles a bit, trying to sit up, and Clint’s eyes snap towards him. For a moment, those eyes are full of alarm, looking as if he is about to attack Bucky if he moves too quickly, and it makes him freeze. Then, however, a smile appears on Clint’s face, nervous but relieved, and the man slowly makes his way to his feet and walks over.

Clint takes a seat by Bucky’s feet, “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve been hit by a truck,” Bucky responds with a grimace, “What happened?”

The smile fell from Clint’s face, and he spoke in a dark voice, “HYDRA happened.”

The word ‘HYDRA’ sent dread down his spine. Bucky stiffened, eyes widening slightly, and his heart began to pound as if it was trying to bust out of his chest and escape the realization of what had happened. He brought a shaking hand to his chest and licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry, “I-I- I was the Winter Soldier, wasn’t I?”

Clint could not answer him verbally, and instead just nodded. Blue eyes stared into his sternly, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“What did I do?” he asked desperately, breath hitching in his chest. No. No, no, no, no, no, “Did I hurt anyone? Did I _kill_ anyone?”

“No,” Clint said, shaking his head firmly. He leaned forward, grabbing Bucky’s arm, grip tight and reassuring, “ _You_ didn’t hurt anyone.”

Bucky wasn’t quite sure if he believed him. He could feel panic beginning to creep through him. He had lost control. He couldn’t remember anything about it. His eyes flickered to the bandage on the man’s shoulder, “But-“

“You didn’t do this,” Clint said, gesturing to the wound, “This was some HYDRA goon.”

Bucky’s eyes trailed over to Sam, who was looking up from his book now, a pensive look on his face. He brought one hand down to his torso and said, “It was the Winter Soldier. It wasn’t you.”

Sam did not blame him.

But Bucky had been the one to hurt him.

His breaths came out quickly now, and he clenched his intact hand into a fist, nails digging into the flesh. He had lost control, and one of his teammates had been hurt. He had hurt him. He had hurt Sam.

“Bucky,” Sam speaks slowly. He moves to sit up, to walk over to them, but a hiss of pain leaves his lips, sending bolts of guilt through Bucky. He decides not to move and speaks slowly from his bed, “This was not your fault. I’m fine. We’re all fine. We’ve got a little bit of healing to do, but it’s nothing permanent, and it _wasn’t your fault_.”

Bucky doesn’t think he can believe the man but it is at that time that Steve wakes up. He groans lightly as he sits up straighter, stretching and grimacing as his body protests to the position that he had been sleeping in. He blinks blearily at them, and a confused expression covers his face, “What’s going on?”

Clint hops off Bucky’s bed, walking over to Steve and pointing accusingly at Bucky, “He’s blaming himself like you said.”

“Bucky…”

“Get back in bed,” Bruce enters the room, sending a sharp look at Clint as he makes his way over to Peter to check his vitals, “You’re injured, or did you forget? Don’t make me send Natasha in here.”

Clint actually pouts and Bucky finds his mood lifting despite himself as the man stomps over to the bed and sits down roughly, “I’m fine. I’ve had way worse.”

“Doctor’s orders, Clint,” Bruce said simply. Bucky turns his head to watch the man take Peter’s pulse and temperature, “Besides, Natasha will not be happy if I pull her away from her work. She and Tony are trying to contact T’Challa to discuss the vibranium they found.”

Bucky blinks and frowns at that, “What are you talking about?”

“After we left the base, Natasha stayed back with some SHIELD agents. There were several people who were being held captive and experimented on there so they needed to get them out. However, Natasha came across a room filled with weapons made from vibranium,” Steve explained, “Tony is pretty sure that T’Challa would never allow them to get it, so they think it was stolen,” at Bucky’s still confused look, Steve clarified, “T’Challa is the new king of Wakanda, which is the only country to produce vibranium. He just took over after his father passed away last year.”

Bucky nodded slowly, trying to process all of this in his mind.

While Steve had been talking, Bruce had continued checking Peter over. He was frowning lightly and spoke up the moment Steve fell silent, “Peter’s fever’s gone up to 106. That’s not as bad for him, due to his abilities, as it would be for a normal human, but it’s still not good. We need to get the fever down.”

* * *

Peter woke up to the feeling of something cold and damp being placed on his forehead. For a moment, his mind was blank, and the only thing that he processed was the cool sensation on his burning skin, but then the panic set in. He could almost feel the wet rag sliding down his face, covering his mouth and nose, restricting his breathing until his chest was burning and he could see black dots covering his vision. He could hear the woman’s laughter echoing around the room.

A shout escaped his lips and he reacted without thinking, lashing out at whoever was near him. He felt his fist his something, or someone, and he used his other hand to fling the rag away from his face. He breathed heavily and moved quickly, pushing himself against the wall, desperate to get away from them.

“Peter!” someone shouted, and then there was a hand on his arm, and he lashed out again. He felt his fist connect with flesh, and someone cursed, and then said, “Peter, calm down! You’re safe!”

But he wasn’t safe. He was in that room, that dark, empty room, and he could see _her_ staring at him, eyes wide and gleeful as he screamed and begged her to stay away, _stay away_ , **_stop, stop, stop, stop._**

“Peter, you’re safe. You’re at the MedBay. You’re home. You’re safe,” someone was saying, but Peter knew they were lying. They were trying to trick him.

He curled into a ball, trying to protect as much of his body as he could. His hands covered his head and he buried his face in his knees, whimpers leaving his lips, and he waited for the pain.

But the pain didn’t come.

His heart rate, which had skyrocketed, began to slow down. He took deep breaths and blinked slowly, lifting his head in confusion and fear, expecting to see _them_.

Instead, he saw Steve in front of him, hands held out as if he wanted to touch Peter but didn’t dare, eyes wide and concerned. He saw Bruce standing off to the side, pale and clutching the rag that Peter had thrown in slight horror. He saw Clint and Sam in beds across, watching quietly. He saw Bucky, stiff, metal arm gripping the bed that he sat on tightly.

“You’re safe,” Steve spoke again, and Peter’s breath hitched as he realized exactly where he was. He was not at the HYDRA base anymore. No, he was home.

“S-Steve?” he spoke, voice small and hesitant.

A smile appeared on the man’s face. He leaned in and slowly wrapped an arm around Peter, watching carefully in case Peter moved away, but Peter leaned in, desperate for comfort at the moment. He squeezed his shoulder reassuringly, “You’re safe,” he repeated, holding onto Peter, hugging him in a way that Peter could not remember being hugged since his Aunt May had died, “You’re safe.”

For the first time in several days, Peter let himself relax. He leaned into Steve’s arms, closed his eyes, and reveled in the feeling of _home_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm trash, I know. I let this go forever without updating. My only excuse is that I actually had the majority of this chapter written a long time ago and then I accidentally saved something else over it (maybe the adkof one-shot that should be coming out soon) and then I was just so disappointed with myself and I couldn't bare to write it again. But here it is, written up, and hopefully I'll have the next chapter up sooner.

**Author's Note:**

> Woo! Here's the next story in the series! I won't be able to update this one as often but I'll do my best to update as regularly as I can.  
> This story is going to be darker than the last one, with lots of Peter angst. It will deal a lot with Bucky and the Winter Soldier, and Steve's roll as Peter's guardian. There will be a lot more characters in this story but they won't be main characters. The core will be the same as ADKOF.  
> Also, just as a warning, I have several plot lines that will snake through several different stories. The plot introduced in ADKOF, with Peter's dad, is one that will be mentioned but not resolved in this story.  
> If you have any questions, leave them in a comment and I'll do my best to answer!


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